


Soul Symphony

by Nauts



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire | Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Bullying, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nauts/pseuds/Nauts
Summary: There are only a handful of things everyone knows about soul marks:One, every soul mark bears the first words soulmates directly say to each other, face to face.Two,  the words engraved on one’s skin appear in the perfect calligraphy of their soulmate.Three, the words appear on the soulmates’ skin simultaneously.Four,  not everyone has a soulmate.Five, some people get marks that are illegible and smudged, like someone had tried to erase fresh ink with a rubber and some water and made a big mess on their skin. Others get marks that look like scars, white and fainted when they’re usually black and vivid. And they say it’s because that person’s soulmate has died before they were even able to meet.Steven is only fourteen and to be fair, he isn’t all that interested in knowing who his soulmate might be.Deep down though, he still prays that person is alive and well, and that it could be -if he even gets to ask for anything- someone nice.Soulmates AU set in Hoenn. Multiple POVs. The world depicted here is much more realistic and mature than in the games.
Relationships: Denshousha Shigana | Lorekeeper Aster/Higana | Zinnia, Fuyou | Phoebe/Kagetsu | Sidney, Haruka | May/Tsuwabuki Daigo | Steven Stone, Lutia | Lisia & Yuuki | Brendan, Mikuri | Wallace & Tsuwabuki Daigo | Steven Stone, Wallace/Lt. Surge
Comments: 17
Kudos: 42





	1. Ouverture

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [An Interesting Trip](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727768) by [ShanaStoryteller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanaStoryteller/pseuds/ShanaStoryteller). 



> This work was inspired by ShanaStoryteller's An Interesting Trip. be sure to check that out if you like Fullmetal Alchemist, or even if you don't, because it's truly a wonderful fic!  
> So, this started like a little writing exercise to practice multiple storylines and ended up becoming a whole other fiction. I promise it's gonna be short, with three chapters at maximum. I'm gonna resume my main story, Make a Wish, very soon, but if you're interested, this one is totally unrelated and can be enjoyed if you like the soulmates idea.  
> I hope you have a good time reading this!

_**Ouverture**_ ; _an orchestral composition forming the prelude or introduction to an opera._

* * *

The fated words appear on May’s skin when she is ten, still in Johto, and at a classmate’s birthday.

When the black letters start emerging from she-really-doesn’t-know-where (some people say they come straight from your soul, but May’s never been too much of a romantic dreamer), engraving themselves onto her pale arm, everyone gapes at her and starts cheering like crazy.

“Congratulations, May!” Says a petite girl with brown, braided hair in her class clapping her hands. “Now you have your soulmate too!”.

She steals the show, completely and shamelessly. She might have felt bad for the birthday boy, but the only thing May can think of as she eyes his newly-received starter (a cute, little Cyndaquil typical of their region) while the neat and elegant calligraphy traces in precise and practiced strokes the words ‘ _And you are?_ ’ onto her forever, is that she’s ten already and still hasn’t started her big adventure.

(It really seems unfair to her. She’s old enough to be linked to someone for the entirety of their lives, and yet she can’t have a shot at her dream, unlike all the other kids her age. What’s more, her father is a skilled Pokèmon trainer. Rumors have it he’s going to be promoted to Gym Leader very soon, and May realizes in horror that everything she’s ever wanted to achieve will forever be next to her, yet never truly in her grasp.)

She cries a lot that night, and her heart twitches and throbs under the covers and inside her chest, for a whole other reason than what anyone would expect from a ten-year-old child who's just found out that her soulmate is truly somewhere out there.

* * *

Steven has always been curious about soul marks. But, being that passionate about science, he finds himself being more intrigued as to how the marks actually work than the fact he still doesn’t have one.

So he gathers up all the info he can on the subject, takes into account all the variables and formulates his hypothesis. Soul marks are still unexplored territory, and he’s willing to delve into all of it and its mysteries.

There are only a handful of things everyone knows for sure:

One, that every soul mark bears the first words soulmates _directly_ say to each other, face to face. (Before confirming this theory, right after the invention of the PokèNav, the radio and all sorts of means of communication, there had been a bit of mass hysteria. People had started to notice soul marks seemed to never match, until they met the person who they had been talking to for months over the Nav and suddenly -the big revelation.)

Two, that the words engraved on one’s skin appear in the perfect calligraphy of their soulmate (at least, the one they have at the very moment the words materialize.)

Steven notes down that all the commotion his father’s invention caused had never happened with hand-written letters. Probably because people never expected for something as mysterious and life-changing as soulmates to be so easy and convenient. There was just no way you would wake up one day with the perfect copy of your mark inscribed on mail, wasn’t it? (Not that there are any cases to prove that soul marks work through hand-written letters or anything. And besides, people don’t really write that many letters anymore.)

Three, the words appear on the soulmates’ skin simultaneously. (People easily remember the day the words first popped upon them, and thus far all the dates seem to match.)

The final fourth and fifth points are the most mysterious -and therefore alluring to him. They’re theories that have evidence, yet just not enough to flag them as “absolutely certain and proved”.

The fourth says that not everyone has a soulmate. But no one’s certain if the words still only have to appear, or if they truly never will. (There have been cases of people receiving their mark at an elderly age, and there are also cases of people dying without having ever seen the words on their skin. Would it have happened sooner or later, and they just didn’t live long enough to find out?)

Steven thinks about that a lot, for long enough to make the knuckles of his hand turn white and numb from the pain of holding onto the wooden furniture of his home so tightly. He wonders if he’s going to be one of those unmarked people, the ones Universe hasn’t found the perfect match for, and thus were discarded and left alone.

The last one is the most ominous. Because some people get marks that are illegible and smudged, like someone had tried to erase fresh ink with a rubber and some water and made a big mess on their skin. Others get marks that look like scars, white and fainted when they’re usually black and vivid.

And they say it’s because that person’s soulmate has died before they were even able to meet.

(He knows it can’t be after, because even after his mother’s death her words remained inked on his father’s shoulder. _Excuse me, can I pet your Omanyte?_ )

Steven is only fourteen and to be fair, he isn’t all that interested in knowing who his soulmate might be.

Deep down though, he still prays that person is alive and well, and that it could be -if he even gets to ask for anything- someone nice.

* * *

Wallace receives his first punch when he’s sixteen, and another boy calls him a faggot after having seen him half-naked in the pool’s changing rooms. Because anyone who catches a glimpse of his mark can easily determine it could only be a man’s handwork. 

_Lieutenant General. Straight from Kanto._

After that one, others follow. Wallace’s teenage years spent between the trainer’s school and the water gym training pool are filled with scornful looks and sneering laughs, because even if he doesn’t exactly announce it to everyone, he doesn’t bother denying it either.

In all honesty, he’s relieved that destiny paired him up with a man. He’s sure that a soulmate would be perfect no matter what, but he’s grateful for those frayed words scraped roughly into his inner thigh, because when he thinks of them at night, he imagines himself under the same rough, manly touch, and can’t help quivering with desire.

Sometimes, he goes as far as thinking they are a blessing. Something nice that only reminds him of the fact that someday, he will be loved and appreciated as well.

He decides to ignore the fact that the other teens treat him like he is a nasty Garbodor no one wants to get too close to. He thinks bitterly that It’s not like he will assault them.

After all, his standards are way higher than the usual, average bully calling him names in the aseptic white pool corridors.

He stops considering his mark a blessing when one day he goes to buy some Soda Pop at a vending machine just outside the gym’s building. The sky outside greets him with faint purple and lilac tints, and a fresh breeze hits his face. It’s late evening, and his mentor Juan’s already gone home, but Wallace has decided to stay and train until he and his Milotic are ready to take on the next contest in the upcoming weekend.

No one should be around, so when he hears a strong sound coming from inside, he hurries inside to check on his beloved Pokèmon.

As soon as he enters the pool area, he’s forcefully grabbed and restrained from behind by a pair of muscular arms, while a boy he doesn’t recognize is issuing some commands to a Blastoise who has been released into the pool.

He watches in horror and screams as a powerful Hydro Pump is released from the cannons on its shell and into his Milotic.

Wallace hears his Pokèmon cry in pain, and he desperately tries to call him back into his Pokèball, but he gets punched in his gut so hard he can’t even breathe, while crazy cheering and laughter erupt behind him, along with the same insults he’s gotten used to.

He tries to turn around and catch a glimpse of their faces, because he swears to himself that if he makes out of this alive, he’s gonna make them pay, but he gets kicked in the back and falls face down onto the cold, wet floor.

As Milotic cries again, Wallace tears up; and for the first time, he truly starts fearing for his and his Pokèmon’s lives.

“Please, leave him be! I beg you, leave Milotic alone! He didn’t do anything wrong!” he pleads and cries, but the laughter continues.

“He’s the Pokèmon of a faggot, and we’re gonna teach him a lesson as well. We don’t want _things_ like you here in Sootopolis, and you got enough warnings,” comes a voice from behind, along with another kick.

But then, a second voice interrupts, followed by the sound of the heavy doors of the pool being opened wide. “What’s going on in here? What do you think you’re doing?”.

Wallace thinks that firm and commanding voice is the best thing he’s ever heard in his life, and as he witnesses the giant Blastoise being knocked down in one hit by the mysterious intruder, he smiles softly.

He misses out on the panicked screams of the bullies, on them being chased around by giant steel mountains of Pokèmon while his Milotic’s injuries are treated.

By the time his tormentors have been apprehended and an elegant figure kneels beside him, Wallace’s already half-unconscious, and can only make out a spark of silver before falling into oblivion.

* * *

Phoebe doesn’t understand why the other kids don’t want to play with her and her sister.

“But she’s right here!” she protests, stomping her little feet onto the ground and gesturing at her side.

“You’re a freak. Go somewhere else with your imaginary friend” they say, moving away from her.

She looks at her sister with tears of frustration in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Phila, it seems like they don’t want us either,” she says, but her sister’s always smiling. So Phoebe smiles back, clutching her sister’s tiny hand tightly as they go up the rocky path that leads to their quaint house atop Mount Pyre.

She explains everything to her grandma as soon as she gets home, who holds and reassures her.

“Mount Pyre is a place for the dead,” she says tenderly, “and kids your age are too young to understand something like death. But death is life, and life is death, and you don’t have to fear it when it comes. Death makes life something worth living, and after it always comes Life. When a wilted flower falls, a new one always blooms in its place. Our role as guardians of this place is to ensure this cycle of life and death continues.”

“I- I don’t know if I fully understand it, grandma”, Phoebe replies pensively. “Will I be a good guardian when the time comes?”

Her grandma smiles sadly. “You already are, my dear”.

She thinks about her grandma’s words a lot, and wonders if her mark means something like that too. The other kids at school always mocked her for those nasty words engraved onto her leg. “Look, freak, even your soulmate doesn’t want anything to do with you!” they yelled every time, as she tried to cover it with her hands.

 _I’ll be the death of you!_ The words recite, but Phoebe now thinks that if death is truly life, and life is death, this truly has a beautiful meaning. It’s almost as if saying ‘ _I’m gonna be with you forever’._

Her sister helps her to cut open her flower skirt on the side, and Phoebe decides that her mark is something she will be proud of and won’t ever hide again, even if other people don’t understand, because she knows her family does.

Phoebe cooks dinner that night. She prepares her specialty with love and care, but at the end of the meal, her plate’s the only empty one.

* * *

Surge enrolls in the military at a young age, as soon as his mark appears. He’s a decent trainer, but he knows he won’t ever be more than that on the battling field.

This young boy from Kanto, though, he really aims at being the very best. Not merely _decent_. Not merely one among many. 

The curved words stamped along his backbone are a warranty for him. _Colonel Surge_. He knows that by the time he’s gonna meet his significant one, he will already be a Colonel in the army. He has a promising career ahead, and can think only of that when he’s sent on a very dangerous mission that changes his life forever.

The entire battalion he belongs to gets annihilated, and he is rescued by a wild Raichu that finds him unconscious on the battlefield and electrocutes him right before he can be shot again, waking him up and saving his life.

The wild Pokèmon leads him to an abandoned power plant, where other electric Pokèmons provide him fresh water and berries from the nearby forest for the following days, until he’s strong enough to stand on his feet again and his bullet wound has started to close. He goes around looking for other survivors, always accompanied by his new electrifying friends, and brings each wounded man he finds (ally or enemy, he doesn’t care. They’re all broken humans out there) to the power plant.

He returns home as a hero of war, and for the first time Surge feels he can truly make a difference in something. The electric Pokèmons become his signature, and they follow him on every subsequent mission.

He gets promoted to Colonel soon after, and he feels his heart beating wildly in his chest every time a private greets him with his newly acquired title. He finds himself hoping, and longing. The implications of this peculiar feeling hit him some time later, when he’s invited outside for a drink along with his privates and fellow officers.

They go to a bar, and all the women are immediately on them. “Colonel, oh colonel” they coquet around him, “don’t you want to dance with me?”.

And Surge does. He dances, and drinks, and when he finds himself alone with one of the prettiest girls, he thinks he’s happy to oblige. But when he feels her hands ravenously trailing on his body, unbuttoning his shirt and trousers, he closes his eyes and can only imagine a pair of manly and calloused ones touching him instead, sending shivers down his spine.

He breaks off the girl abruptly, musters up a silly excuse while picking up his clothes and runs to his dormitory, his heart exploding inside his chest with the force of a thunderstorm.

In the following weeks, he finds himself wanting to peek at his privates’ naked bodies during shower time, and he silently reprehends himself and his inappropriate thoughts. Surge decides to shower alone from that point on, because he doesn’t want his newfound attraction to get in the way of duty. However, he can’t help but blush furiously every time his gaze meets some well-toned shoulders and a particularly lean back during training.

He stays up late inspecting the words on his spine in the big mirror inside his room. The moonlight shines on his skin from the nearby window, lighting up his white flesh and the elegant, feminine handwriting above.

He recalls that night at the bar and despairs.

“How am I gonna fake this for a lifetime?” he murmurs to himself.

Surge has gotten used at winning, in these past years. In this situation, however, he feels like he’s truly been defeated for the first time.

* * *

Sidney has always found his mark incredibly disappointing. _I can’t wait!_ It says, and he finds himself thinking that who the hell introduces themselves that way? Why can’t he get a name, or something clear, like his friends at school?

He laughs at that anyway, because he’s young and naïve and life is incredibly easy for a gifted child like him, in both school and Pokèmon training. He laughs after every battle he wins, laughs when his friends argue with each other for whom has the privilege to hang out with “the coolest kid in the class”, laughs after every perfect score at videogames and smiles after each heartfelt confession he receives from girls in his school. He’s always the ace in each sport he picks up, he’s always the most well-dressed kid, and his locker is always full of gifts, his house always full of smiles. Sidney keeps laughing, because life is beautiful.

But when he’s eleven, and his father dies in a car accident, Sidney stops laughing. The last words he hears from his mother before she goes out, never to return, are “Your mark is something beautiful, Sidney. But it’s something that can hurt you a lot. More than anything in this world. Always protect it, and don’t let anything bad happen to it.”

People in his class start whispering strange things. That he’s a child of misfortune, that he probably scared his mother away and caused his own father’s death in that _accident_. They keep saying such things with ease, and it hurts, _it hurts so much_.

But Sidney still has his mark, and his mother’s words, and he clings to them like a lifeline. So, when a boy in his class dares to touch the ink on his neck, Sidney jumps on him. It takes three people to restrain him, including the teacher, and by the time they manage to get him off the other boy, he’s already broken his arm.

He gets expelled, of course, and he is tossed around from school to school like some unpleasant package no one wants to get at their door. He’s the problem child, the one who punches other kids, who scares them away. “He broke the arm of another student when he was only eleven”, he hears whispering in the halls at his passage, “did you know that?”

He’s a violent one, they say. He brings misfortune, they say.

They say he’s destined to become a delinquent, a thug, a criminal. And Sidney is fine with that. He embraces his new vicious image fully, dressing in leather black clothes and addressing each disdainful glance with an even more malicious one. He grows isolated by everyone, and he finds it oddly ironic that not too long ago people were fighting over his company.

Then a couple of elders with their imposing Absol offers to take him in, and he goes to live with them in a godforsaken shack they call a Pokèmon Day Care up in some godforsaken mountains.

Unexpectedly, he finds that different Pokèmon trainers frequent the place habitually, and he starts challenging them with the Mightyena that once belonged to his parents.

He doesn’t laugh anymore, even if he never loses. He smirks a lot though, and starts scaring each customer away (along with taking an exaggerated amount of money from them after their every loss).

His foster grandpa notices his pain and takes him aside one evening, his trusted Absol trailing behind them.

“Did you know that Absols are truly beautiful creatures?” he says, smiling, as he bends down to caress his Pokèmon’s white fur coat. “They can sense natural disasters approaching and they always try to warn people about them. When they do, however, people can’t understand their cries, and turn away.” He keeps petting his Absol, who purrs in delight, but his smile has turned sad now. “When the disaster happens, their appearance gets mistaken as a sign of misfortune. They are so kind, yet so easily misunderstood,” he says, standing up from his position and facing Sidney.

The man then looks at him in the eyes and places a hand on his shoulder. It’s the first human contact Sidney has felt in too much time, and he’s not sure how to respond to it.

“I don’t know what you’re going through, kid. And I won’t ever pretend I do. But if you ever find yourself in too much pain to fight with that Pokèmon of yours, feel free to breed some of your own here. This is your home now, after all.”

Sidney hasn't laughed in a while, now. This time, however, his usual defiant smirk is replaced by something else entirely. Something warm, that makes his eyes water a little. It's not quite a laugh, and he is too proud to cry, so he just smiles and turns his face away. (He can't let the old geezer see him this emotional. Would be too shameful.)

After that, he becomes completely absorbed in the daily duties at the Pokèmon Day Care. He helps his newfound family as much as he can, always collapsing on his bed exhausted at night. He insists on handling all the hard works by himself, but he also gives a hand in breeding, becoming quite the expert, and before he knows it, his mother’s Mightyena has given birth to a beautiful male puppy.

In the following years, he trains it like he’s gonna prepare for the Gym Challenge, and assembles a nice team made up of various species.

When he’s twenty, his grandpa passes away. “You have helped here enough, kid,” says his grandma tenderly between tears after the funeral. She handles him a Pokèball, and Sidney starts shaking his head because he can’t possibly accept that responsibility. “He would have wanted you to have him. We know you have what it takes to be a great trainer. And we know you’re gonna treat him right.” She hugs him, pressing the Pokèball into his palm. “His place is with you. Go out and live your great adventure”.

He hugs her back, and this time, Sidney doesn’t feel ashamed in crying his heart out.

* * *

Zinnia’s mark has been ruined ever since she came to this dimension. It’s a partially smudged, partially faded black splotch on her cheek, the letters so messed up she almost can’t make them out anymore. Not that she needs to, since she knows them by heart.

Five letters, one word. A name.

 _Aster_.

It’s her personal stigma. Something that always accompanies her, an ever-present reminder that she was unable to protect the one she loved more than anything in the world. In that world, in this world.

She knows it makes no difference, even if it does. In this world, there is no Aster. But she keeps seeing her in every little thing around her, keeps dreaming of her and hearing the sound of her voice.

They promised each other they would always be happy, no matter what. But that was when Aster was still around, and now Zinnia understands the absurdity of the request. A promise, however, is still a promise, and so whenever she feels like crying, she raises her head up high at the stars, so that her tears would never, ever fall.

* * *

Lisia has always been a bit of a fangirl regarding her mark. _I’m just a Pokèmon researcher,_ it says, and she can’t help but dream about a cute and smart scientist who will make her hopelessly fall in love with him one day and propose under the Lumiose city tower. Then, unexpectedly, she is forced to move to his uncle’s house in Hoenn, because her parents are divorcing and his father will claim custody over her if she stays in Kalos. Her mother reassures her when she screams and cries, and tells her that uncle Wallace is truly a wonderful person and a spectacular contest star and trainer.

Lisia doesn’t care, though, because she’s sure that along with her kalosian friends, she’s also missing out on the chance to meet her soulmate, but she still finds herself seated on a plane headed to the subtropical region.

Wallace greets her like she was the little sister he never had, and spoils her tremendously.

She finds success as a contest star under his guidance, the brightest Hoenn has ever seen since his uncle’s rise to fame. Lisia uses her own popularity to appear in magazines, on the tv, and to make her voice heard on the radio, all in the hopes of reaching her long-lost kalosian soulmate. 

She starts holding scouting events for wannabe contest stars too, and it’s not by chance that she picks up every cute and nerdy boy with glasses as her apprentice.

* * *

Brendan is enthusiastic when the day finally comes and his new neighbors move in just across the courtyard, in a nice house that mirrors the one his family lives in. He heard from his father that they have a girl his age, and if that isn’t fate, what is it?

He can’t contain his excitement and practically barges in when they’ve just arrived and still have tons of boxes to empty and arrange in the new space.

He extends his hand to the middle-aged couple, and they call for their daughter to come greet him from upstairs.

Then the girl comes down and stands in front of him. She’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and he’s smiling and praying that the words on his shoulder blades written with feminine grace will come true. ‘ _You there, watching me with that baffled expression on your face!’_ He’s pretty sure he’s nailing the expression, because he’s completely lost in her sapphire eyes. _Please, please, say it_ , he keeps thinking.

But then the girl just says “Hello” and smiles, and Brendan can feel his heart sink.

He outstretches his hand nonetheless, smiling in return. “I’m Brendan. And what’s your name?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering about the characters' ages in this fiction: this is hard, because the timeline here progresses fast.
> 
> Surge > Sidney > Wallace = Phoebe > Steven > Zinnia > May = Brendan > Lisia > Wally
> 
> Steven becomes Champion at 20 and gets dethroned at 25.  
> May starts her journey at 18 and becomes Champion at 19.
> 
> When May becomes Champion, the characters ages are:  
> May, Brendan = 19  
> Lisia = 18  
> Steven = 25  
> Wallace, Phoebe = 27  
> Sidney = 28  
> Surge = 35  
> Zinnia = 21
> 
> I imagine Wally to be something around 14-16 during May's journey and Aster to be older than Zinnia (more or less like the age gap between May and Steven)


	2. Crescendo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to think I wanted to make this a one-shot ahahaha. Ahah. Ha.  
> I hope you enjoy this second part !  
> (And no, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Brendan, Lisia, or Zinnia. They're coming back in the next chapter.)

_**Crescendo;** _ _a directive to gradually increase the volume of a song_

* * *

Wallace wakes up in a hospital, and spends his next days trying to track his mysterious savior. Juan tells him it was a promising trainer that was looking for the water gym leader to complete his gym challenge, but since he’s been defeated, he should still be somewhere in the area, training.

He finds him shortly after, on a small island just outside Sootopolis. He remembers that glint of silver, and starts thanking him, but the stranger just shakes his head like he hadn’t saved his and his Milotic’s lives, and challenges him to a battle.

Wallace loses, badly, and he’s pretty sure the other young man is just going to leave when he comes to him and introduces himself. He holds his breath, but then the boy says “I’m Steven, a steel-Pokèmon trainer. I also like collecting rocks, and minerals, and rare gems. I have a huge collection, and my favorite ones are dawn stones. What is your name?” and Wallace can’t help but suffocate a small laugh. “I really hope your soulmate hasn’t those words inscribed somewhere. A little more and you could write an essay on mineralogy”.

He notices the other boy’s face falling down shortly after his reply, and he immediately says “But hey, at least it’s a pretty original introduction. Much better than mine!” he smiles, turning his leg so that his mark is visible. (It’s not something he likes doing, but hey, the boy probably figured it out already that day, and he’s still talking to him. That should count as something, right?)

Steven gazes at his mark, smiles back, and then asks him quietly, “Are you Juan’s pupil? I can’t seem to beat him, and water types are a tough challenge for my team. Could you help me train?”.

Wallace wants to protest and remind him that he had just crushed his entire team just a few moments ago, and that his Pokèmons are trained for contests, not battles, but he thinks that he at least owes the boy this, after that perfectly timed rescue.

So he nods, and they start training together. The days spent with Steven in the water gym’s pool or on the nearby marine routes quickly turn into weeks, and then months. Battle after battle, confession after confession, laugh after laugh, their bond keeps increasing and they reach a point where Wallace feels they could be considered best friends.

He learns that the boy is from one of the wealthiest houses of the region, that his father wants him back to run the family business as soon as possible and that Steven’s too fixated on rocks and Pokèmon battles for the sake of the company. He tells the boy about his dreams of becoming the greatest coordinator ever, to mesmerize people at every contest and to show young children they don’t have to fear believing in dreams, magic, and in being whoever they want to be. But he also tells him of all the hardships, of the pain and isolation and the feeling of being different, but in a wrong way. He knows Steven understands, because sometimes Wallace can feel in the other boy’s eyes the same pained expression he saw reflected in his own too many times.

He notices his friend doesn’t seem to be the least bothered by his extravagant antics, his choice of skimpy swimsuits and his dirty jokes, and he is happy, genuinely happy. For the first time, Wallace feels like he can truly be himself, without reserve, and still be accepted and wanted. He feels different, but in a good way.

Steven makes him feel unique.

He also notices that no one even dares to look at him the wrong way anymore, and he is incredibly pleased by this unexpected side effect of having Steven around at any time.

Wallace knows the boy’s not his soulmate, but he’s clearly smitten with his exceptional (and unbelievably dorky) new friend. Besides, his own fated partner is probably somewhere in a faraway region, given the 'Straight from Kanto' part of his mark, and Arceus knows how long Wallace will have to wait before he can meet him. Maybe a lifetime.

(But Wallace doesn’t have a lifetime to spare.)

He also knows that Steven doesn’t have a soulmate, and that the boy will probably have to go back to complete his gym challenge and take on the League someday, yet Wallace is too afraid to make a move because he doesn’t want to ruin everything.

He also doesn’t want to lay in his bed awake each night, asking himself ‘what if’ over the long, late hours, so one day he decides to risk it all.

It’s an early spring night, and there’s a chilly breeze outside that sends jolts of electricity all over Wallace’s insides. He and Steven have just finished battling, and they’re relaxing on a big rocky terrace overlooking the small, white town.

“You’ve become very strong,” says Steven between gulps of fresh Lemonade. “My Metagross is always the only one left standing, recently”.

“Well, if all this hard training had served no purpose I would be pretty upset” he jokes, but he knows Steven’s right. He’s almost reached his friend’s level in Pokèmon battles, and he knows it’s all thanks to the exhausting but efficient training sessions the other boy carefully prepares every time. He’s pretty sure Steven is fully ready to take on Juan and win, but he’s afraid of it becoming a reality, because it would also mean that his friend won’t have a reason to stay in Sootopolis any longer after getting his last badge.

They never talk a lot about their marks, and Wallace thinks it’s out of respect for him, especially after what Steven had witnessed that day at the pool months before, but this time the other boy’s gaze lingers just a bit longer on Wallace’s thigh, and he is surprised to hear his friend ask “Are you going to meet him someday?”

Steven’s eyes are still on his mark, and after a brief pause, he adds in a whisper “In Kanto?”, while pointing at the last black, inked word, and Wallace swears he can hear a hint of sadness and fear in his friend’s voice.

“I- I don’t know,” he replies, feeling suddenly out of breath. “Kanto’s a long way from here” he adds, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I see,” Steven says, and Wallace can’t make out the tone in his voice. The conversation has suddenly become very strange and …awkward, in a way. There is a long pause filled with silence between them.

Filled with Wallace’s hopes and desires and expectations.

But then his friend blurts out “When is your next contest?” and Wallace wants to scream _Excuse me?_ yet unbeliavably, he manages to compose himself and casually reply “Oh, that”. A nervous laugh erupts from his lips. “It’s in two days”.

He tells himself that the tension he felt before was probably just his imagination and own desire combined, that his friend’s a real dork without any social experience (besides talking to him) that usually hides in caves and it was just his normal way of saying things. He forces himself to relax, but then Steven goes silent again, and Wallace finds himself hoping for more. Again.

He is ready to mentally chastise himself when his friend says “I have to tell you something” and Wallace’s heart literally explodes.

In the explosion, he totally ignores the grave tone, or the dejected look in Steven’s eyes, and the only thing he does is cupping the other boy’s face in his hands and kiss him.

Steven’s lips are warm and taste like lemonade, and Wallace melts in the sweet sensation before he realizes what he’s doing and jerks away in horror and desire and shame.

He can’t even look at his friend in the eyes as he mutters a weak “I’m sorry” and quickly gets up to collect his stuff and leave. He’s picking up his Milotic’s Pokèball when he feels a hand gently grabbing his arm.

“Wait,” Steven says, and Wallace freezes. He slowly turns back to face him and he now notices the pained expression on the other boy’s face as he lifts his sleeve and shows him a single word inscribed on his left arm. “I received this today”, he explains, lowering his gaze. “I will have to go soon.”

Wallace feels like dying, but he is so panicked he takes Steven’s hand in his and starts crying as he mumbles “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I ruined everything” over and over again, until Steven takes his hand in his and hugs him impetuously. “You haven’t ruined anything. I’m always gonna be here for you” he says, and Wallace hugs him back, because he knows his friend’s words are the most heartfelt and true thing he’s ever heard in his life.

They talk a lot, after that. They stay up all night, laying on that rocky terrace as they watch the stars and exchange all their wishes and secrets. Steven isn’t excited to depart, but Wallace tells him that _May_ isn’t that bad of a mark. It’s a very nice month, and they convene on that, laughing together. It’s also easy to recognize, and they convene on that too. They fall asleep on the cold, humid rock floor, but somehow it’s the warmest night they ever had.

Wallace sees Steven again after the contest, and he cheerfully greets him with his newly-acquired Hyper Rank ribbon in hand. “You were incredible”, Steven says, “they have started to call you ‘The Water Prince’”.

“They better have, after that performance” Wallace gloats and laughs, and Steven escorts him outside the Slateport Contest Hall.

“So…you’re really going” Wallace states as soon as they’re alone. Steven looks at him sadly, while fidgeting with his hands. “Yes, I beat Juan and I promised my dad I’ll come home soon” he begins, “to give him the good news and attend some business matters”. Wallace doesn’t miss the bitter tone of his friend’s voice when he spits out those last two words, but he is sincerely happy to know he has managed to defeat his mentor.

“Hey, congratz on your last badge. I never had any doubt you’d make it, after all that training!” he tells Steven, and the other boy just smiles tenderly and extends a little package to him.

“It’s a gift”, he explains, “so that we can keep in touch wherever we will be. My number is already registered inside it.”

They hug and say goodbye to each other. Wallace makes his way back to Sootopolis with his new ribbon and PokèNav, and he promises to himself not to cry. He goes to Juan that evening, to tell him about the contest, and show him his newest accomplishment. He finds his master on the veranda outside, along with his wife, and after all the cheering he receives from them, and much drinking, he and Juan sit together under his porch.

“Steven’s gone” he announces to the older man, and quickly adds “I’m happy he was finally able to beat you, after months of hard training” but his forced cheerful tone doesn’t quite hide his sadness.

His mentor looks at him with a shocked expression, which is soon replaced with fondness. “Oh, but that happened long ago. He beat me exactly one week after his first defeat.” He pauses, and takes a good look at Wallace’s baffled expression. ”I take it you didn’t know that?” he asks, and Wallace is left utterly, completely speechless and astonished. It’s as if a million-volt Thunderbolt had just struck him.

“B-But… then why?” he stutters in emotion and confusion, and Juan just places his hand on his back and replies warmly.

“I believe he found other reasons to stay”.

Wallace breaks that silly promise he made to himself on the way home, and cries all night. He and Steven keep in touch during the following years, and when Wallace inherits the gym and Steven becomes the youngest Hoenn’s Champion to date, they see each other often at official conventions, and even more at fancy bars or restaurants. However, Wallace never manages to shake off himself the feeling he has lost something important he is never going to find again.

Until a certain embassy from Kanto lands in Hoenn.

* * *

Phoebe only takes her Pokèmons, her signature flower skirt and her sister with her when she departs on her journey.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine here alone, grandma?” she asks concernedly.

“I’m sure” her grandma replies, looking at her lovingly. “Now go, and don’t look back. I know you will bloom into an even more splendid flower one day. I am so proud of you.”

“Grandma, I… I’m gonna miss you lots.” Her voice falters, but she doesn’t turn. She takes a few unsure steps down the rocky path, and tears are already stinging her eyes when she’s called again.

“Phoebe, my darling. You always knew, didn’t you?”

It’s the first time she senses some unsteadiness in her grandma’s voice, and Phoebe breaks down at that. She manages to nod between sobs, and she feels the warmth of a well-known spectral embrace on her.

“You were truly the best granddaughter I could ever ask for. In life, and death.”

She can’t see clearly, because tears are clouding her vision, but she knows that her grandma is smiling.

She travels far and wide, and she’s barely twenty when she makes it to Ever Grande. Phoebe doesn’t manage to beat Drake, nor Glacia, but she is offered a place among the Elite, which she accepts gleefully.

When her skirt becomes too short, Glacia accompanies her to buy a new one, and her sister helps her cut it on the side again. She traces along the edges of her mark with her fingers, and she fantasizes about the day she’ll finally meet her soulmate.

Two years pass, and it’s another boring and hot afternoon at the League, where everyone is just sitting in the Main Hall or roaming the long corridors aimlessly while drinking some fancy beverage. They haven’t received a challenger in a while, and they are precisely addressing that matter when a girl bursts into the room where Phoebe, Glacia and Juan are busy discussing and drinking their cold afternoon tea, telling them that a young man has made it past Victory Road and is waiting to be received. Glacia almost spills her drink in hearing the news, and the girl politely and worriedly asks if she needs to call the Champion, Drake.

But the fourth Elite affably replies that he will be more than enough for the new contender, and Phoebe and Glacia smile in unison as they watch him go.

Juan’s the newest addition to their lineup, but he has years of experience on his shoulders as the water gym leader, the last and most powerful gym in Hoenn, and no one dares to doubt him or his battling skills (even if he can be a bit cocky, sometimes).

Hence, it’s to her great surprise that Phoebe gets summoned with urgency to her ghastly arena, because apparently Juan’s been defeated and she’s up next. “He’s a devil” he warns her when she passes him by on the long corridor, but she just smiles and keeps walking.

She shivers in delight as she readies her Pokèmon and prepares the stage. She hasn’t had a good challenge in a while, and she truly _can’t wait_.

* * *

Sydney enters the dark corridor still full of adrenaline from his previous win and watches in marvel as one by one, lanterns are lit up by a mysterious spectral force. He crosses the wooden bridge separating him from the ruined tea house used as the third Elite battleground with wide and impatient steps, the purple wisteria flowers hanging above his head, swaying at his passage.

He feels the blood boiling furiously in his veins, and he knows he’s ready as he’ll ever be. Today, he’s claiming the title, and no one can stop him. At twenty-three years old, he’s gonna be the youngest Champion ever, and he just _can’t wait_.

He opens the door and he’s only a little bit disappointed in seeing a girl his age standing there, smiling in a slightly disturbing way.

She’s pretty, he thinks, even if short hair isn’t really his thing, and it’s a real pity because he doesn’t like thrashing girls. He has no chivalry to spare when he’s this close to the title, however, so he takes position on the field and just smirks.

When she releases a Dusclops from her Pokèball without even introducing herself, his usual expression gets replaced by a vicious grimace. Sidney realizes he has the type advantage, and the words escape his lips without him even noticing. “I’ll be the death of you!” he yells.

He immediately regrets it, because he doesn’t want to sound like a homicidal maniac, but then the girl does something unexpected.

She blooms in front of his eyes, and her smile is the purest and most beautiful thing he thinks he’s ever seen. “I can’t wait!” she exclaims, and in that dark and gloomy place, she’s as bright as the Sun.

 _Fuck_ , Sydney thinks, as he’s reduced to a vegetative state for the rest of the battle. He gets completely crushed, but he couldn’t care less.

He approaches the girl after his humiliating defeat, still catatonic, and notices she’s talking to an empty chair placed against a wall.

“There’s no one there” he comments, because he doesn’t really have anything smart to say. He looks at her and thinks that short hair is now _, definitely,_ his thing.

The girl looks a bit saddened at that, so Sidney quickly extends his hand and tries his best to sound -well, not exactly kind, but surely not nasty like his usual. He knows just how much being mocked for being different can hurt. “I’m Sidney and.. uh, who were you talking to?” he asks awkwardly, scratching his head. 

“My sister, Phila.” The girl looks at him, and she’s radiant again. “She always watches my every match. I’m Phoebe,” She explains, shaking his hand. Sidney feels like he’s about to start giggling like a preschooler.

“Oh, uhm, I-I came here alone” he manages to say, averting his gaze and fixing it on the girl’s slender, tanned legs. He flushes when her blue skirt opens on the side to reveal their full length, and turns crimson when he recognizes his handwriting on her skin.

Something hits him on his head, and Sidney thinks it must be divine punishment for his sinful thoughts, but then he notices Phoebe’s small fist upon him. “Are you stupid?” she reprimands him, “there was a couple over there cheering for you the whole time, and an old man wouldn’t stop clapping at your every move. It was almost distracting. Phila’s so much more well-mannered, you know?”

And at that, Sidney just starts laughing.

He takes Juan’s slot at the Elite, and gets to spend every day with Phoebe.

Sidney hasn’t laughed in so many years, yet now there’s not a single day he remembers not doing it.

Finally, life is beautiful again, and he can’t stop laughing.

* * *

May quickly realizes that the phrase ‘ _And you are?’_ Is more common than one would think, because unfortunately it’s full of unpolite people that reply like that when she tries to catch their attention on the street. “Excuse me, Mister, your Pokèmon…” “Hmph, and you are?” or “Who would you be?” “Who dares to disturb me?”. She gets those kinds of replies a lot, but nothing she says in return sparks a decisive reaction in them. To say it bluntly, no one has recognized her as their soulmate, and in all honesty, May’s perfectly fine with that. She has stopped searching for her “missing one”, her “fated person” the “other side of the red thread of destiny” and a whole list of other sappy names used to describe that on the very moment she has seen the letters appear on her arm ( and ruined a poor boy’s birthday, but May’s not really sorry for that).

She grows up hearing on the radio that a boy who was only a little bit older than her has already become the Hoenn Champion, and practically screams when a girl with long, rebellious black hair that looks like she has just gotten out of mid-school is announced on tv as the new Champion of Unova.

She’s seventeen, still in Johto, and looks murderously at every young boy or girl almost half her age that goes around with his or her partner Pokèmons, because she couldn’t even choose a starter. She can’t even set foot in another town “ _because it’s too dangerous”_ , for Arceus’ sake, while her father travels back and forth through the other regions and has a personal fighting dojo as a gym which is full of giant ass monkeys that become belligerent when hungry.

So May trains in secret, borrowing Pokèmons from other kids that have too many and can’t carry them all around, (such poor, unlucky little children) and devises the perfect strategy and setup to take down Lance.

Her master plan to conquer the Johto title is soon thrown overboard when one year later, around dinner, her father announces they’re moving to Hoenn, where he’s needed to fill the spot of normal-type gym leader.

May practically jumps with joy, because if Lance looks like he’s going to be a tough opponent, she’s sure that a boy who obtained the title when he was still a little brat and that no one ever sees can’t be much more than an incompetent buffoon who’s probably too scared to show his face on tv for fear of being recognized by all the kids that probably defeated him countless times without the strong aid of the Elite Four on his side.

She ponders the title in her mind ‘May, Champion of Hoenn’ and decides she likes it very much. It has a more exotic ring to it than old, boring Johto, so she’s all up for that new adventure.

She packs her things with renewed energy, and less than a week later she isn’t even done unpacking them when a boy her age comes into their new house looking like an enthusiastic Growlithe who’s just been told he’s a good boy and introduces himself.

May doesn’t miss the disappointed look on his face shortly after her name escapes her mouth, but she thinks it’s for the best, because who would want a soulmate who can barely leave her house?

Her life, however, takes a wild and unexpected turn when she saves the boy’s father from a rabid Poochyena, who conveniently ends up being the local professor that gives her a starter and asks her to accompany his child around the region as he does some research in his place.

The professor talks with her mother, too, and he manages to persuade her with his “immense potential” talk. (Hopefully, her father won’t even notice she’s gone until she mops the floor with his Pokèmon and takes his badge.)

She goes for a Torchic, because she’s definitely gonna set his father and the reigning Champion’s asses on fire with that, and leaves with Brendan for the next town.

They quickly become friends, and she teases him for his mark frequently. He counters by saying that she’s not the girly and delicate lady he imagined her to be when he first saw her and May bursts out laughing every time.

She helps him catch some Pokèmon for his research, and under her care those same Pokèmon grow stronger and stronger. She’s happy, she has a friend and thus far she’s won every single battle she’s participated in. She’s only a little bit shaken when she hears the words stamped on her arm from some trainers she meets on the various routes, but as no reaction follows from them after her response, she shakes away that feeble spark of hope and suffocates it.

She’s eighteen already, and needs to fully focus on battling if she wants to beat the well-known and feared Elite Four, the real challenge Hoenn has to offer, unlike that faceless puppet of a Champion. So she trains endlessly, and even runs some errands for a famous corporation based in Rustboro.

She almost forgets about her soul mark entirely, until she enters that damned cave.

* * *

Steven is sixteen on the day he receives his mark and his first kiss.

The two things aren’t related to the same person, and he leaves Sootopolis with a heavy heart, his only relief residing in the fact that at least his friend is now strong enough to protect himself from the horrible people that hurt him for too many years.

He becomes a great trainer, the greatest in the region, but he avoids the public eye. He’s the Champion no one can put a face to, and he’s content with living a somewhat normal life in his little house in Mossdeep and filling his days with long excursions to all sorts of caves around the region. (Of course, there’s League paperwork too, but Steven hates those days.)

His father often insists that he appear on television and announce his soulmate’s name to the world, so he can settle down and inherit the family’s business, but what Joseph Stone doesn’t know is that part of the reason his son spends so much time cooped up in subterranean tunnels is to avoid that very future his father has laid down in front of him ever since he was born. 

He still finds himself attracted to spring, and particularly, to the month of May. He notices that is the time of the year when the flowers and nature bloom the most beautiful, and he wonders with a faint smile if he will bloom like that for someone too.

He’s inspecting an ancient mural in the deepest part of a cave near Dewford when he hears soft steps approaching. He’s exhausted from having to deal with his father’s subordinates, always invading his privacy by following him around and pestering him, so he says bitterly “And you are?” without bothering to turn around, in the hopes of getting this done quickly.

It’s quite ironic, Steven thinks as the girl replies in an even more bitter tone “May” and his eyes go wide in shock, that he spends the vast majority of his days trying to escape a fate that will only bring him duties he so desperately wants to avoid, when the same fate has managed to find him even in the deepest recesses of the earth.

He silently thanks himself for having his eyes still on the mural, because he’s pretty sure the surprise and panic are still evident on his face, and takes a moment to collect himself before facing the girl.

She’s beautiful, _of course she has to be beautiful_ , he thinks sorely when their gazes meet for the first time. But she’s young, _too_ young, and Steven knows she has a life ahead when his own is gonna end soon where Devon starts.

So he’s grateful when she keeps staring at him like an annoyed and somewhat murderous Snubbull, handing him a white envelope, because he’s sure that whatever he has blurted out in his annoyance before, she hasn’t recognized it as a fated sign of matchmaking. He’s also sure that for some arcane reason, the girl’s not too happy to see him, and that wouldn’t exactly be a perfect start in a soulmates' relationship. _Or any kind of relationship,_ Steven thinks.

“So?” the girl says, pissed, staring at the missive in her hands. “Are you gonna take it or not?”

He outstretches his hand, a bit dumbfounded, and tries to introduce himself. “It’s a pleasure, May. My apologies. My name is Steven. I’m interested in rare stones, and-“ but the girl cuts him off abruptly. “Mister _Steven_ , will you take the damn letter or not? Seriously, I’m not even being paid to do this, and I have a damn gym to challenge.”

She seems to realize that she’s not being exactly polite, because she quickly adds “Listen, it’s just that the Devon President had to suddenly decide that among his vast array of employees, me, a girl that was just passing by, was the most suited to become his trusted delivery girl! It’s probably only because he doesn’t have to pay me for that, since I’m not legally employed, but the worst part is that I couldn’t even refuse because he knows my dad and I’m afraid he will tell him I’m going around the region, alone with a boy, even if he’s only a researcher friend if I don't do it! Can you believe how much this sucks?”

Steven tries hard not to laugh, but he can’t resist. He cracks up, and the girl immediately looks at him with the same guilty expression that businessmen who are found alone with a Jynx in a dark alley usually sport. “I’m sorry,” she says, looking at the ground below in shame and blushing profusely, “it’s been a really long day. I’m not usually like this.”

“The first, I can tell,” he says, but he offers her a warm smile and the girl relaxes a bit. He doesn't know why he does it, if it's just him being nice or if he's just curious because he thinks the situation is under his control, but the invitation escapes his lips nonetheless. “Do you want to sit here for a bit, May?” he asks politely.

“Oh, uhm, I- I really don’t know, and probably I should go and-“ she begins, but then she surprisingly accepts his invite and moves next to him, on the big rock plateau. “Thanks,” she says, in a much softer and less belligerent tone than before.

They sit on the humid rock together, and in the damp ambient, Steven can almost feel the heat emanating from the girl's hands, just inches away from his. “Do you work at Devon?” she asks after a brief pause, and Steven is left surprised at the question. ”You could say I am…associated with them, in a way” he replies puzzlingly. Which is not the full truth, but it’s not a lie either, and that’s all he feels comfortable in sharing.

The girl doesn’t press on at his response, and Steven appreciates that. Again, he finds himself talking before he knows it, and it’s with genuine curiosity that he asks her “And you? What are you doing, ‘ _going around the region, alone with a boy, even if he’s only a researcher friend_ ’ ?”

He sees her blushing furiously once again at his quote, and the red on her cheeks only deepens when she states “I’m training to become the new Champion of the region”.

He can tell she’s determined, so he doesn’t even think about mocking her. Before he can say anything, however, the girl hastily adds “I know it sounds foolish. People always tell me I’m already too old and I just started my journey here.” She looks incredibly saddened while explaining that, and Steven feels the urge to say something nice. “I don’t think you are. It’s never too late to follow your dreams. But-“ and he adds this, because he still has a little bit of pride in his title “I heard the Champion here is a tough guy. I wouldn’t take him lightly.”

“Do you really think so? He doesn’t even show his face, and no one knows who he is. I think he must be an unskilled baboon, or a spineless inept” she counters flatly, and completely shatters Steven’s Champion pride.

He doesn’t really know what to do besides laughing, because this is the most hilarious situation he has ever found himself into.

“You are really unfiltered” he joshes between laughs, “are you really sure you aren’t ‘ _usually like this_ ’?”

“No! I mean, yes!” she splutters, and to his pleasure, he notices that she has started laughing as well.

When he gives May his favorite TM to compensate her for the time she has spent looking for him and waves her goodbye it’s with a light heart, because he thinks he’s not going to see the girl again and that he has made up his mind around the whole soulmates thing.

Little does he know that Fate has different plans in mind for him.

* * *

Surge is thirty-five and Lieutenant General when a young soldier approaches him after training with the fated question.

“So, Lieutenant Surge, who’s the lucky girl?”

He feels the entire changing room’s eyes on them, and everyone is watching the boy like they’re expecting him to be ripped apart by Surge’s muscular arms.

But Surge’s feeling particularly benevolent on that day, so he just deadpans “Pardon me?” and expects the boy to go silent.

But the boy’s a new recruit, and he clearly doesn’t know better, because he presses on.

“Yeah, you know, Lieutenant General, the mark on your back. You met her when you were a Colonel, right?”

Surge freezes in place and looks at him like he’s a strange talking Pokèmon, and then turns around because he’s not sure what to do. All the gazes are still transfixed on him and the boy, but this time, Surge sees something else in their eyes besides anticipation for the boy’s ill-fated end.

He sees curiosity.

After a long pause in which he feels like everyone, including him, has stopped breathing, he sighs out “I don’t know who she is”, defeated, and the entire room goes silent.

No one bothers him with silly questions anymore, but he can feel looks of pity and sympathy everywhere he goes, and it’s driving him crazy.

He thinks that it’s better if he never meets his soulmate. That lady probably deserves someone better than an old, grumpy military officer who’s gonna look at her and wish she was somebody else for the rest of his life.

Then, one day, he receives orders to escort an important embassy as representative of the army, and Surge obeys. As their plane is soaring the Hoenn skies, he thinks that it’s truly a marvelous region to forget about his soul mark and leave his worries behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, some insights from this chapter if you're interested!
> 
> As for Steven and Wallace's preferences that might come off unclear:  
> I don't picture Steven being necessarily bisexual due to his early attraction to Wallace and then for May. I think he's more the type of guy that truly starts liking someone for the kind of person they are, rather than focusing on their gender. (Sadly, we will never know how things would have turned out with Wallace, because Steven left before the both of them could become too invested and get hurt, knowing very well destiny wasn't on their side.)  
> Wallace, on the other side, I imagine being bisexual, but with a strong preference for men. As he states in the first chapter, he is glad his mark is clearly bonding him with a man, even if he wouldn't have despaired (like Surge does) in seeing a girl's handwriting on him. It's just that strong, muscular dudes are really his thing (with the exception of Steven and a few ladies).  
> This is just my interpretation here though, and I do not intend to make any assumptions that might sound offensive knowing very well how delicate gender representation and sexual preferences should be treated!
> 
> Phoebe's ghost grandma is something I headcanon from the games. There's an eerie aura around Mount Pyre, and the fact her grandma keeps stressing out it's a place for the dead and only ghosts reside there yabbadabba makes me think she's not on the living side of things anymore and acting as a sort of mediator between the spiritual world and the people visiting their lost ones there. 
> 
> Phila (Phoebe's little sister) is a character I made up here, but she's based off the fact that when you battle Phoebe for the first time, there's an empty chair inside the room, and for two very brief moments, you can actually see the ghost of a little girl sitting on it. 
> 
> Phoebe also seems to be able to communicate with ghosts, being a sort of esper/psychic character, thus her considering them alive and treating them as she would have done with living people makes perfect sense to me. Also, there's probably a bit of denial on her side at first, especially during chapter 1 (considering their young ages there, Phila has probably died recently ), but by the time this one is set in, she fully knows her grandma and sister aren't physically with her anymore, she just still acknowledges and talks with them (as almost any person would if they could communicate with their deceased ones I guess)
> 
> Sidney being in a lower Elite position than Phoebe despite his type advantage has always bothered me. We don't know how Elite slots are assigned, but I imagine that a slot is offered to any trainer who's strong enough to reach them and beat at least one of its members (replacing the lowest one) in similar fashion as one becomes Champion. Probably there's more going on about them than that, but Sidney panicking and losing to Phoebe is my way of justifying their standings.
> 
> I hope you found these additional infos interesting!


	3. Legato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fated meetings, fluff and flirting. Alternatively; May roasting Steven repeatedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is becoming longer than I expected, but I really like how May's turning out here. I hope you enjoy this third part!

_**Legato;** _ _a directive to perform a certain passage of a composition in a smooth, graceful, connected style._

* * *

May can’t shake away the feeling that something is amiss for the following weeks. She tries hard not to think about the handsome stranger at the bottom of that dark cave, and fails miserably.

Not that handsome strangers suspiciously dressed in business suits standing alone in unlit tunnels and watching murals that depict the end of the world are a fantasy of hers _, nor of any sane person_ -she grumpily thinks , but somehow she found herself intrigued with the equally gentle and mysterious silver-haired man she had met there. And the first words he said to her.

“Maybe I’m not so sane” she whispers to herself. 

Steven. _It could have been him_ , she thinks, _but he’s clearly not_. Once again, May had found her hopes rising up high just to egregiously fall down a moment later and hit the ground, like one of those Rattatas that suddenly think they can fly and stamp themselves onto the concrete.

She doesn’t know what makes her snappier, if it’s the fact that she’s been in Hoenn for a little over two months and has heard the magical words more times than she can count on her fingers, or if it’s because for the first time, May had actually felt a pang in her chest looking at her new, possible partner (and wannabe rock-maniac) and then witnessed no reaction from him at the mention of her name. Again.

Just like all the others before.

She wonders if she’s destined to be disappointed all her life, waiting for some kind of response that’s never going to come, and silently despairs.

_I’m just a Rattata. Why did I think I could fly and jumped off my tall building?_

When May finally reaches Petalburg (after repeatedly beating two annoying eco-terrorists organizations whose leaders probably failed their science class in high school being too busy designing their ridiculously matching outfits), defeating her father and earning her fifth badge after a fiery challenge, she’s still way less enthusiastic than what she thought she’d be.

She still got to win some free money from a sick, asthmatic child she remembers having helped before that’s gonna cover a fancy dinner for her and Brendan that night, along with the satisfying sweep she gave her father’s dojo using his Slaking as a giant furry mop, and May’s at least glad for those.

She’s chilling outside with Brendan, sitting on a bench in the middle of the little town facing one of the two ponds filled with freshwater Pokèmon he’s currently trying to fish, when the boy suddenly speaks.

“You’ve been pouting for weeks, May. What’s happening?” he inquires, and she notices a hint of genuine concern in his voice.

“What’s happening what?” she echoes, plastering on her face the most charming smile she can.

In all response, the young researcher turns to face her and eyes her suspiciously. “May,” he monotones.

“What? Nothing’s happening. Truly nothing. I swe- AAAAH! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” she shrieks as a nasty-smelling Magikarp goes flying onto her lap.

“Because you’re hiding something,” he insists, swinging the Pokèmon over her with his fishing rod. “What is it?”

She looks at the nefarious, slimy creature in disgust and resigns. “Ugh. Fine, fine, you win” she concedes, sighing, “But before, put that thing back in the water!”

“It’s just a Magikarp!” Brendan laughs, but does as indicated, freeing the little Pokèmon and watching May expectantly. “So?”

May sighs. She thinks that she’s sighing too much these days, and sighs again ( this time, in frustration).

“Brendan… do you ever.. uhm, think about your soul mark? Not that I’m thinking about it or anything, I’m just curious.”

The boy’s still eyeing her suspiciously, but to May’s relief, he does not inquire further and decides to answer her question instead.

“Sometimes, I guess… well, to be fair, more than sometimes“ he confesses, blushing and looking at the still, clear waters of the pond. “But I think I’m lucky. My mark is really unique” he proudly declares. “I’ll know when I meet my lady”.

“That’s exactly the problem with mine!” she snaps irkly, standing up from the bench “How am I supposed to know? Who even introduces himself with this shit?” She furiously gestures at her arm, pointing at the black words inked there. Brendan watches her, surprised but silent.

“I’m just...I don’t know. I thought I didn’t even care about this, but I find myself hoping every time! It’s plain infuriating!”. May bawls as she plops into the bench again, and quickly glances at her reflection in the waters ahead. She looks more wretched than angry now, and she hates it, but she continues her rambling anyway.

“Fourteen, Brendan. _FOURTEEN_ , and that’s only in the last couple of months I’ve been here. I tell myself I’m not counting them, but I actually am. What if one day I want to hold someone and be held in their arms? Do I just go ‘ _Sorry, I’m not sure if it’s you or someone else among the dozens of possible partners I’ve encountered thus far! Haha, one can never truly tell with all these ‘And you are?_ ’ _, but we can still try!_ ’?”

May’s slouching now, her head reclined backwards and facing the sky above. She feels like crying, and she’s thinking that it wouldn’t be too hard to fake being blinded by the sun to justify her teary eyes, when suddenly she feels being pulled close in a warm embrace.

“For what it’s worth, May, I think you’re awesome. As a trainer, and even more as a person, even if you’re a bit over-dramatic and rough-mannered at times. But hey, If by the time you’re Champion the entire Hoenn’s not at your feet, I’m gonna smack all the boy’s heads because it’s clear they don’t understand anything!” he declares solemnly, before adding, slightly embarrassed, “Or… uhm, the girls’. Whatever you prefer.”

Despite having her face buried in his chest, May can feel her friend smiling and she squeezes him back vigorously. “Thanks, Brendan, you’re really the best” she grins, and at least now the small tears running down her cheeks are for a whole different reason than before.

“Darn right I am!”. He breaks free of the embrace, and looks at her playfully, wiping away the little drops from her eyes. “So what do you say, fancy a nice dinner at that new restaurant in Mauville? Wally’s treat!”, he yells.

“Brendan! You’re a monster!” she smacks him on the shoulder, and they’re both laughing.

“Hey! I’m just learning from the worst!” the researcher protests, and it’s by a miracle he manages to avoid her next, puckish hit.

Some hours later, May’s in Mauville waiting for Brendan, who had to backtrack to Slateport to finish some business for his father at the Oceanic Museum while she went straight to their next destination on her Flygon’s back. She has already stopped at the restaurant to make a reservation for dinner, showered and changed her clothes at the Center while her Pokèmon were being healed, restocked on potions and balls at the Mart and beaten a few clueless rich boys who dared to challenge her with a Zigzagoon and some Full Restores, and is currently very bored.

It’s only early evening and May knows Brendan won’t arrive until shortly before dinnertime, so when she overhears a young couple talking about the natural wonders of the nearby Route 118, she immediately decides to go there and have a walk with her Pokèmon to relax together in their company. 

As she sets foot into the warm, setting sunlight illuminating the path outside the city, May doesn’t take long to notice a spark of silver hair and think that indeed, the route truly has some amazing, _natural wonders_.

* * *

Brendan is in Slateport, and is finishing collecting some marine Pokèmon fossil samples for his father. “It’s but a humble gift from our museum”, the receptionist explains when he tries to pay for them, “to repay you and your friend March for delivering us those goods from Devon and saving our beloved Captain Stern” and he’s torn between correcting the woman and laughing at his friend’s misused name when he hears a big commotion outside.

Suddenly, the main street just outside the museum gets invaded with fleets of people running and yelling like crazy, and Brendan hastily opens his bag to secure the fossils inside and grab his PokèNav in case he needs to call May due to another Team Magma or Aqua attack. He carefully sets foot outside, and after taking a few steps he sees that a big crowd has formed in front of the Contest Hall at the end of the street, where a few latecomers are still busy running to.

He knows he should probably be on his way to Mauville, because unlike May, he doesn’t have any flying Pokèmon and it takes significantly more time to reach the city by sea, but curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself headed towards the big Hall in no time.

He gets closer, but still far enough to avoid getting caught in the big crowd and destroy the precious samples. From there, Brendan’s able to witness the source of all that fuss, and he thinks he perfectly understands.

There’s a girl on a podium, and it’s the most enchanting sight he’s ever laid eyes on.

She’s saying something, and the crowd goes wild and erupts in applause, but Brendan doesn’t understand a single thing because he’s completely and hopelessly enraptured by the sound of her voice.

 _It must be a spell_ , he thinks as he gets lost in her every graceful movement, in the azure depths of her big, liquid eyes, while the girl descends onto the crowd and approaches him.

He feels like a Tentacool who’s been captured by a fisherman’s net, except there’s no fisherman but a beautiful mermaid In front of him, and he’s willing to completely surrender himself to her and get eaten alive.

Brendan stares, gapes and realizes that the girl is the most famous contest superstar in all Hoenn, while he’s just an assistant Pokèmon researcher who shouldn’t even dare to try dreaming about her.

Suddenly, the entire situation starts to feel like one lame romantic b-movie, because they lock eyes as if the girl had heard his spinning thoughts, and goes to face him.

He doesn’t even register his silly and probably incoherent response as she points at him and declares “You there, watching me with that baffled expression on your face!”, because at this point Brendan is sure he’s fully dreaming.

* * *

Steven’s not sure if he’s dreaming or having visual and auditory hallucinations caused by some strange substance he might have inhaled while last excavating for minerals, because the girl - _his soulmate-_ from Granite Cave is calling and waving at him from across the beach on Route 118.

He slightly panics (and Steven tells himself it’s because he’s afraid of the possibility of chemical hazard within his body) but he manages to cough out a polite “Why, hello” as she approaches and goes to stand in front of him.

This time, May has a pretty red dress on, and Steven more than once struggles not to look at the places where her outfit wraps more tightly around her figure as they exchange pleasantries.

He tries to think about rocks, and gems, and Pokèmon, and it works because soon he’s discussing the efficiency of mono-type training with May.

“I think it’s not very smart”, she states, “if not outright stupid. But I can understand themed Gym Leaders and Elites doing that, because they have no other choice.” Steven thinks he’s just avoided a direct hit to his pride, but unfortunately, May’s like a boomerang, and is ready to strike again on the way back. “For a normal trainer or a Champion, on the other hand, would be hella dumb to limit themselves to a single type, or two at max. But who’s stupid and reckless enough to do that, besides ol’ madman Lance and his dragons, am I right?”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he just laughs. It’s refreshing, he thinks, because to all the people who have direct contact with him (except for Wallace and his father), he’s either the Champion or the heir of Devon Co., and everyone treats him like some kind of deity who has to be pleased and revered at all times, while this girl tells him he’s an _unskilled baboon_ and a _spineless inept_ and that basically his type strategy sucks.

They talk a bit more, and it’s pleasant, and it’s funny, but Steven knows he can’t possibly stay there any longer because the girl’s his soulmate and he already knows what his choice is -and should be. He’s ready to wave her goodbye when a mysterious Pokèmon appears in front of them, and Steven thinks with a sigh that destiny’s not on his side that evening.

 _Destiny is definitely_ _not_ _on my side this evening_ , he confirms, as he feels May’s arms wrapping around his waist and her warm and soft chest pressed against his back for the entirety of their ride on Latios’ back. The Eon creature unloads them on a small island, where they find another of its kind being threatened by Team Aqua bandits.

He’s ready to jump in front of May and release his Pokèmons against the two villainous pirates, but the girl precedes him.

“Steven! Be careful!” She shouts, readying a Pokèball in her hand and releasing a Crobat from it, before turning to face him. “Don’t worry, they’re wanted criminals, but I’ll protect you” she says with a smile, and then commands her Pokèmon. “Crobat, annihilate their rear backs with Cross Poison!”

Meanwhile, Steven’s brain has just stopped functioning and is playing on repeat the words _‘I’ll protect you’_ over and over in his head because he thinks there’s no way that this isn’t a sort of sick, gigantic joke his father has organized to finally convince him to retire from his position as Champion, but then he remembers that it’s this girl he’s talking about and she might very well not have the slightest clue about his identity, which is both amusing and incredibly humiliating at the same time.

He releases a Metang he’s currently training into the fray, because he doesn’t want to show his real Pokèmons to May -yet. She believes he’s an inept, and well, _who am I to change her beliefs?_ , he wonders with an impish smile.

To May, it’s not like he’s the Champion of Hoenn, a Steel-Pokèmon master, the heir to a multi-billionaire company, a renowned Mega Evolution expert and mineralogy genius, or her _soulmate_ at all.

Steven perfectly knows that to this girl he’s just, well, _Steven_ , and he’s starting to think that he might as well have some fun with this whole identity farce while he’s at it too.

May gapes at his Pokèmon’s entrance on the field, but the battle is over before it can even truly begin. The remnants of the Aqua grunts and their Admin scatter around, and Steven finds himself alone with her again.

“You never told me you could fight!” she exclaims in awe, still flushed with a mixture of excitement and adrenaline from the match.

“Hey, give me some credit at least!” He laughs softly, and then he’s staring intently at her. “You were truly amazing out there, May. They never stood a chance against you.”

“Thanks,” she chokes, and Steven sees she’s turned the color of her dress and is twirling a strand of her chestnut hair around her finger nervously. “I mean, you were not half bad either” she splutters, looking at anywhere but him. “Especially for being a boring businessman.”

 _‘Not half-bad either’_? He’s never wanted to cringe, laugh and cry as badly as this exact moment in his life, but Steven remembers his plan and manages to feign surprised ignorance.

“That’s whom you thought I was? A ‘ _boring businessman’_?” He quotes, both amused and despaired.

“ _Duh_! Who else goes in caves dressed in a suit? Of course I still think you’re one!” she objects firmly, and Steven thinks she might have a point there, but he’s not gonna mention it.

“Well, without the ‘boring’ part now, at least” she adds after a bit, and if possible, she’s even redder than before.

They’re quiet on the ride back, and Steven enjoys the calm while watching the Sun set over the horizon, feeling May’s warmth from behind.

“It looks like you had some plans for the night” he says after she’s done securing Latias’ Pokèball at her waist, looking at the one in his hands where the twin male Eon is now resting. “You better get going.”

“Oh, it’s just Brendan and... AH! THAT IDIOT!” she suddenly screams, looking at her PokèNav screen furiously “I can’t believe it! He didn’t even bother to warn me until now!”

“Are you talking about your Nav? Maybe it couldn’t pick up the signal because we were soaring, and you received whatever messages that got sent to you during that time only now.”

“Are you kidding me?” she growls, “What kind of fuming imbecile designs such a revolutionary device and then -wait. Don’t answer that. Just…forget it. I really don’t want to know.”

He suffocates a laugh, because it’s clear she’s trying very hard to stop herself from saying any more than that, since she’s probably remembered that he’s _affiliated_ to Devon and could very well be the inventor behind the PokèNav.

Which he in fact _is_ , along with his father, but May doesn’t need to know that.

“So, I take it you’re free after this sudden change of plans?” he inquires charmingly.

“Oh, yes, it was just a normal dinner between me and Brendan. My researcher friend” she adds after he eyes her at the mention of the boy’s name. “But he told me something unexpected came up, and he’s not going to make it. You see, we got some money after beating this kid who’s like super sick but incredibly loaded and- wait, I know it sounds bad, but he challenges us every time and the least we can do is give him a real battle instead of a pity show and…. _aah_ , I feel like I’m just making things worse. Does it sound worse than before? If it does, just kill me, please.”

He starts laughing so hard he’s almost out of breath when he says “I’m sure I don’t want to kill you, May, since I really want to ask you out for dinner. What do you say to that?”

And he wants to stop, he really wants to stop thinking about this girl, laughing with her and acting so casually when he knows the full truth that’s weighing on his shoulders and is going to crumble on them any minute now, taking down May with him, but he really can’t. She’s the first semblance of normality he’s experienced in a while, and he’s not so eager to let her go.

As Steven tells to himself that it’s just a one-time thing, that she doesn’t need to know and that he’s not going to let anyone here get hurt since he’s got the situation perfectly under his control, he feels May’s fingers lacing around his as they walk together, and he begins to doubt that.

* * *

Lisia is not sure why she picked the boy. He didn’t look one bit like one of those pretty nerdy boys she’s been chasing for all her life, and he didn’t have a kalosian accent either.

 _He looks kinda normal_ , she thinks as she watches him sleep, _but in a good way_. In a gentle, reassuring way that makes her heart all warm and fuzzy inside.

She hugs him close, and thinks that whatever had guided her that afternoon, it has truly made that day the best of her life. As she drifts off to sleep next to her soulmate, Lisia knows she doesn’t care about grand promises being made under shining towers in faraway regions, as long as she can go to sleep and wake up every morning with Brendan at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to officially make this the INSIGHT CORNER!  
> All the trivia from this chapter:
> 
> I've decided to sum up all the main characters mark locations! ( Since I realized I forgot to specify a few of them or address Lisia's one)  
> May ( outer right arm );  
> Steven ( outer left arm );  
> Wallace ( inner right thigh ),  
> Surge (vertically along his backbone)  
> Phoebe (along her left leg, from up her knee to her calf);  
> Sidney (on the front of his neck);  
> Lisia (on her chest);  
> Brendan ( horizontally along shoulder blades)  
> Zinnia (right cheek) ;  
> Aster (???) 
> 
> Rattatas jumping off building is a reference to a popular myth surrounding russian hamsters (also known as lemmings) in which they are said to jump off cliffs or tall structures to instantly die and avoid a slow and painful death in the cold winter. (It's just a myth and they don't actually do this, but it became popular since Disney documentary-makers cornered and pushed thousands of lemmings off a cliff in order to make nature look sad and cruel in the nature film White Wilderness and spread this false suicide myth. Yep, you heard it right. Disney sucks guys, do not support Disney killing thousands of rodents just to impress people with a scene)  
> I thought that if this happened in the Pokè world, at the eyes of a child this would look like the Rattatas were trying to fly, and May probably grew up with that belief.
> 
> As for the whole "where do trainers or people on the road sleep in this fiction?" I imagine that hotels exist just like in real life, but Pokèmon Centers are the trainer's preferred choice because they not only heal injured Pokèmons, they also accomodate them and their trainers for free at night, along with having booths for interregional calls and a whole other array of services like hot showers or a cafeteria where trainers can eat and relax. I think it would make sense for the different regions to set up this kind of service and at least provide for 10 year olds who are sent out in the open like that.
> 
> PokèNavs: I imagine them functioning just like normal cellphones, but with a lesser range. They're probably more akin to a walkie-talkie if anything, since they do not cover interregional communications and only work inside Hoenn.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed these small facts!


	4. Sforzando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama, drama, more drama and Wallace getting arrested! (Let's be real, we're all here for Wallace at this point).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. I really wanted to make this the last chapter, but then I dove into the mystical world of Wallace's clothing crisis and Pokèmon politics.  
> Will this fiction be longer than I originally intended? - Hell yes.  
> Do I regret anything? - Hell no.
> 
> Enjoy!

_**Sforzando;** a directive to perform the indicated note of a composition with strong, sudden emphasis._

* * *

“Do we really have to travel with her?” May grunts, quickly glancing at the teal-haired contest star who’s chirping a happy tune a few feet behind her and Brendan, attracting flocks of Swablus infesting Route 119 that gracefully place themselves on her arms. “I’m absolutely not slowing down to wait for your girlfriend's street-lamp act if an Aerodactyl decides that she’s its new favorite nesting spot. Ever.”

She’s still a bit bitter from the previous night, but she’s not going to admit that it’s mostly due to Steven accompanying her to the Pokèmon Center in Mauville shortly after dinner without even asking for her Nav contact number rather than Brendan’s missing in action performance.

Besides, _who wouldn’t abort their plans for the night if their soulmate showed up, and turned out to be a worldwide celebrity too?_ May thinks, and she perfectly understands, but she’s bitter, bitter at her stupid mark, at Steven, and even more at herself for swooning over a man she barely knows, but whose steel-blue gaze sets her aflame.

And now there’s Brendan, who has apparently found the love of his life in the most random way possible, and May doesn’t want to acknowledge it, but she’s envious and she can’t help it, no matter how much she wishes she could dance and sing and cheer with the two love(Deli)birds.

“May, listen, I’m sorry for last night-“ Brendan begins, but May stops him.

“No, don’t be. It’s just…I’m happy for you two, really.” Her tone softens, because she genuinely is, and doesn’t want to ruin her friend’s excitement with her sour mood. But- “But it still baffles me how you manage to get laid with the most famous contest star in Hoenn while I don’t even get kissed on my date!” she laments, before turning her head and adding a quick “I’m sorry, Lisia”, offering an apologetic smile to the other girl.

“Oh, it’s fine May, don’t worry!” Lisia sings from behind. “Besides, Brendy was really awesome yesterday,” the girl continues, dreamily, and May swears that if Team Magma saw the young researcher now, they’d catch him thinking he was some strange red and sweating fire Pokèmon.

They make their way to Fortree together, and May is almost going to say that Lisia’s not bad company, after all.

She’s kind, and incredibly charming, and keeps attracting wild Pokèmons like a delicious honey tree, which provides for an endless source of training battles. She looks a bit air-headed, but she never once trips despite her high heels and her Swablu-covered arms, and May thinks that it’s truly an impressive feat.

So she’s _almost_ going to give the contest star the credit she deserves, when a Swablu she’s trying to coerce into moving from Lisia’s shoulder to her own poops all over her shirt.

_Almost._

They get to the city late at night, after kicking some Magma and Aqua’s asses at the Weather Insitute, and stop at the Center to sleep, since it’s the only place still open when they arrive.

After much fangirling from the local nurse Joy who’s apparently Lisia’s affectionate fan, May’s finally laying in bed, clean and showered and ready to sleep, except she _can’t_.

It’s part the excitement for the gym challenge that’s awaiting her on the following day, part the noises coming from Brendan and Lisia’s room (which May desperately wants to believe are just her researcher friend getting over-excited about his new weather-shifting Pokèmon and dancing around in joy while hitting the walls) but she finds herself unable to close her eyes, and decides to go for a night stroll with her Pokèmons.

She’s standing on a wooden bridge just outside the city, watching the stars reflected on the water’s surface below and thinking that it really is a beautiful night, when suddenly, it starts raining.

It doesn’t just rain, it pours, and May manages to hide herself in a small fracture of the earth that’s too modest to be called a cave, but not before she’s fully soaked.

Surprisingly, she finds the cramped space adorned with an old computer, some Pokèmon posters and a small sofa, and May realizes that this is probably one of those abandoned secret bases she’s been hearing about since she has set foot in the region.

She succeeds in starting a small fire with Blaziken’s aid, using a dry and withered plant she has found in a corner, but by the time the flame is lit, she’s already incredibly cold and wouldn’t stop sneezing.

She contemplates the flickering embers as she’s sitting on the sofa, and as she warms up, she thinks that this could have gone so much worse.

May doesn’t remember falling asleep, but she’s forcefully awakened when a loud noise resonates from outside. It’s loud, and it makes her head spin wildly. She tries to get up to go check its source, but she’s hot, so hot she feels like a pile of molten flesh, and it spins, everything around her keeps spinning.

She doesn’t even make it to the entrance, and collapses to the ground.

The next minutes -or hours, May doesn’t know- are like a blur to her.

She faintly remembers the feeling of something warm and cozy being wrapped around her body, of a voice repeating her name over and over again, of arms holding her tight.

She dreams about Steven, and she thinks she can see his face, touch his soft hair, feel his beating chest underneath.

“I don’t want to wake up, Steven” she shivers, drifting in and out of consciousness, ”you’re the best dream I ever had.”

She closes her eyes, but Steven’s steel, gentle ones stay on her the entire time.

It’s late morning when May wakes up with the biggest headache of her life, and she’s suddenly on the hard mattress of the Pokèmon Center.

Brendan and Lisia gasp when she slowly lifts her head, and they hug her in unison. “May! Thank Arceus, we were so worried!”

Her head feels like exploding and she takes a moment to process her surroundings, but when she feels the unfamiliar sensation of something hard and tingling at her wrists, she immediately grabs it and traces its shape up and up, until she removes it from around her shoulders and looks at it.

It’s a black, elegant jacket, with steel metallic cuffs at the end of its sleeves. _The tingle on her wrists_. It’s strangely familiar, she thinks. It almost looks like… “Steven” she marvels, out of breath, and her two friends look at her awkwardly without saying a word.

It’s Lisia who talks first, breaking the uncomfortable silence in which May does not dare to ask anything, yet desperately wants to know.

“Yes, the Ch-“ she begins, but she gets interrupted by Brendan, who silences her with a hand on her mouth and speaks in her place.

“Oh, uhm, yeah… _Steven_. He was the one who brought you here at dawn. Said he’d found you in a secret base not far from here, soaked wet and boiling with a fever.” He then runs a hand through his hair and blushes, but continues talking. “He also said he’s sorry for…removing your clothes, but he had no other choice since you were literally _freezing alive_.”

May completely misses the hard tone of his voice on those last two words, and takes a while to register the entirety of the phrase, but when she does, color fills her cheeks and tints her whole face crimson. “Y-you mean..?” she tries to inquire, but Brendan interrupts her as well.

He looks and sounds exasperated now. “May, what the hell!” he roars, as he stands up from her bed. “Why did you have to go out in the pouring rain? What was on your mind? It’s dangerous, for fuck’s sake. You’re not some kind of immortal goddess!”

With those words, he storms out of the room, slamming the door and leaving the two girls alone.

“I’m sorry” Lisia whispers tenderly, caressing May’s cheek and combing her hair with her fingers. “He’s just worried.”

May has never felt this much shitty in all her life, not even when she was covered in Swablu’s excretions the day before.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m so, so sorry” May sniffs, and she knows she’s apologizing for more than the agonizing night he had just caused her traveling companions. She looks at the contest star, who is still sitting beside her and smiling at her softly.

“…Steven?” May pleads without even forming a proper question, but the other girl understands anyway.

“He left a little before you woke up. He stayed with you through the entire night, you know? But I think you need to rest some more now,” Lisia says as she smooths the blankets around her, and leaves. “Sleep well, May”.

And May is about to close her eyes when she feels something hard poking at her side from underneath, in the exact same spot where Steven’s jacket lays. She touches it impatiently, until she finds a hot, solid object in one of its pockets.

When she pulls it out, the colors of blazing embers reflect into the room and in May’s eyes, and she stares in wonder at the Mega Stone in her hands.

On it, there’s a small note attached, in a somewhat familiar handwriting that’s so small it’s almost unreadable. It’s only one word, but it’s enough to fill her heart with hope, and happiness.

_May._

* * *

The next time Steven sees May after the Fortree... _incident_ , they’re both in his house, but it’s under far different circumstances than what he would have wished for their reunion to occur.

He knows what the Apocalypse that’s forming outside will bring , he knows the risks, and as May just sits in his kitchen and gets ready to save the world while he can do nothing but explain what’s happening, Steven can’t help but feel worthless.

As worthless as he’s never felt in all his life.

He should be the one doing this.

He’s trained for years, and for what? To leave the matter in someone else’s hands, to not be able to protect his region, to watch his _soulmate_ risk her life to fulfill his duties as Champion, duties he can’t even begin to honor?

“It’s a prophecy”, had explained Phoebe to him hours before. “She’s the chosen one. She has to go.”

But Steven doesn’t care about the unfair choices destiny makes, or about damned prophecies that are older than the land he’s walking on.

He just doesn’t want to see May go, knowing very well she might never return.

She’s at his door now, and she’s just smiling while he feels like dying inside.

“Can I ask you something?” she says, and the voice barely leaves her lips. “It might sound a bit silly, but I really want to know. I’ve wanted to know since that day in Fortree.”

Steven holds his breath. There’s something in her tone he instantly recognizes, and his heart aches at that, it aches terribly.

It’s hope.

He just nods, because he’s not trusting his voice not to sound exactly like hers right now.

“Do you… do you have a soulmate, Steven?”

And at that moment, it all comes down crashing on him. At first, it had been an obvious choice –keeping his identity a secret, never revealing to her the truth about their marks. Back then, he hadn’t thought his life would get this intertwined with May’s, and he had duties -as Champion, at Devon. He couldn’t have possibly tied the life of someone as free as that girl to the chains that trapped him since birth.

Over the course of their meetings, Steven had started to think that someday at least his title and role at Devon could -or would- have been revealed to May, in some way or another, and he was honestly curious to witness the reaction on the girl’s face when the time came, because at that point he still had pride in his position. He had even asked Wallace’s niece and May’s friend to aid him in keeping his title undisclosed, just to prolong the wait -and the thrill that this whole situation sparked inside him.

But now things have changed, and as that girl is standing in his doorway, diving gear on, Steven knows he can’t even tell her he’s the Champion without feeling completely and inevitably crushed.

He can’t even look at her in the eyes without feeling so much shame and disgust towards himself.

How could he possibly tell her she’s his, when she’s so much more wonderful and brave than he’ll ever be?

He shivers, and all his willpower goes into pronouncing those two, drained letters. “No.”

His voice falters, but she doesn’t seem to notice that, as she bobs her head in understanding. She looks incredibly sad now. 

He watches her go, even if he wants to stop her, wants to hold her and tell her that she doesn’t have to do this, that he’s going in her place and that everything will be fine.

(Except he doesn’t. And he hates himself for it.)

Each passing hour is more agonizing than the last, and Steven decides he can’t wait anymore. He’s not going to let this happen to her, not when he’s here, not when his years of training and experience should really count for something.

He’s soaring over Route 128 when the world starts to end.

As pillars of magma emerge from the waters, fighting against tidal waves that threaten to submerge all land, Steven sees May washed ashore on a small strip of sand amidst the ocean.

She’s trembling, and she’s tiny, so tiny, and Steven thinks he’s never seen her this small and defenseless, not even on that night he had found her half-frozen on Route 120.

She buries herself in his chest and cries in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I failed” she shudders, over and over, and his heart shatters in a million pieces.

“No, May. I’m the one who failed everyone.”

* * *

Wallace immediately knows, from the moment he first lays his eyes on the girl. From the moment he sees how Steven looks at her when he thinks no one’s watching, from the moment he witnesses how his first love holds her after they dismount from his Skarmory on the granite town square of Sootopolis.

He knows her name even before she introduces herself, because it’s a name he remembers spending an entire night cursing many, many years ago.

 _May_.

He knows, and he stares in shock at Steven because it’s unfair, he thinks, it’s absolutely unfair that his best friend has finally found his soulmate and she’s going to die in a desperate attempt at carrying out the Prophecy that might or not save their world.

But then Steven looks at him, and shakes his head, and his eyes resemble every bit the cold and hard steel he so much loves, and Wallace realizes that _she_ doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know, and she’s going to die. 

He watches as the girl stands in front of the entrance to the Cave of Origin, watches as she turns to face them for one last time.

There’s something dancing in her eyes as she avidly covers the distance between her and Steven with voracious steps, tugs at the collar of his shirt and kisses him. Wallace thinks he recognizes dying, flickering embers burning inside those sapphire depths, along with a fair amount of desperation.

His friend screams and shouts, but he’s not allowed inside. He’s not the chosen one, the one cursed by destiny to meet an early end.

And Wallace is glad, is so much glad that Steven is safe, that _all_ of them can be safe, but they’re still sending a young girl to fill their every absence, fix their every mistake, and he knows it’s more than his friend could ever take.

When May enters that dark abyss, Wallace isn’t expecting for her to ever come out of it.

* * *

May’s feet move on their own as she walks up to Steven and presses her lips to his. It’s a quick kiss, quicker than what she had fantasized about in her daydreams, but it’s desperate and full of things thought way too many times yet never once said.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, what she’s trying to prove. He’s not her soulmate, and May got the confirmation she wanted just hours before, but she still does it. She’s dying anyway.

May doesn’t linger in the sweet sensation, doesn’t let his arms wrap around her.

She ignores the screams of her friends, ignores Steven hopelessly calling her name. She hears Lisia break down in tears, but she doesn’t turn back. What May does, instead, is simply closing her eyes and run.

She runs through the entrance’s heavy doors and goes into the unknown void, without even looking at it.

She descends staircase after staircase, and the silence is what hits her the most, even more than the never-ending darkness, or the damp, suffocating heat. She can’t hear a sound, and somehow it’s the most terrifying thing she’s ever heard.

At last, she reaches a chamber on the lowermost level, and it’s all still incredibly quiet.

The two ancient titans are submerged in their saltwater and magma, and they aren’t even attacking each other anymore. The air is boiling around her, and she’s wondering the reason why they have stopped fighting and are just standing still inside the giant pool, when they shriek in unison and turn in her direction.

It’s only then that May realizes in horror what -who- they were really waiting to fight.

She’s transfixed as she witnesses their form change into something primal and monstrous. There’s liquid light flowing from all over their bodies, and their eyes fill with the birth of the sea and the land.

The fight begins, and May desperately tries to hold herself together and command her team as best as she can. She’s fueled by adrenaline and survival instinct alone, but they’re soon replaced with sheer fear and an immense, crushing pressure.

 _There’s no recovery from this_ , she observes as Groudon’s claws slash at her Crobat and completely tear apart one of its leathery, translucent wings. Not for her Pokèmon, and not possibly for her. May screams, together with the pained cry of her companion, because now she knows that the deities have set out to kill.

Battling has always been easy to her, a game, almost. There was no such thing as an impossible match or an insurmountable opponent for her. She was always the strongest one, the very best.

This time however, as a giant wave comes crashing down onto her and her team, May thinks that this is no ordinary battle. This is as far from a game as anything could ever be.

Because this is war, and even if they make out of this alive, there’s no way they’ll ever be able to fight again. Those injuries aren’t something a Pokèmon Center can heal, something that she can be comforted out of.

She’s swept up by the wave, and she gets thrown against the stone walls of the cave. She feels something warm and thick running over her face, and a numb pain at the back of her head.

May’s fading into oblivion when a bright white light fills the ambient, exploding behind her eyes.

She thinks it must be death ultimately claiming her, because when she entered that dark abyss, May wasn’t expecting to ever come out of it.

* * *

Zinnia watches as the heat around Sootopolis disperses, as the giant waves that kept crashing on the city walls slowly calm down until they’re reduced to a flat expanse of blue. Then, May comes out of the cave and collapses just outside its entrance.

She’s like Aster, in a way. The kind of person who’s ready to sacrifice herself to save the world. The one, single being who succeeds in protecting everyone.

Except this girl is alive, and Aster _isn’t_ , she contemplates.

But the draconid still smiles as a crowd of people gathers around May’s inert body, as they call and cry her name in awe while she’s being transported to the nearest hospital.

 _Humans_ , Zinnia thinks. They have such little respect and faith for old legends and prophecies.

She always knew the girl would make it through that dark abyss.

* * *

Brendan holds May for the entire trip to the hospital. She’s barely breathing, bleeding profusely, and she’s probably hurt in more ways than he could ever imagine, but she’s alive.

He and Lisia cry tears of relief when the doctors tell them she’s out of danger, and they stay at her bedside until she opens her eyes.

“I take it back” he grins between tears the moment she’s awake, “I take back everything I said. You’re really some kind of fucking awesome, immortal goddess, May.”

And then he’s hugging her, and when May realizes what’s happening and weakly hugs him back, they’re both crying and laughing, and for a moment Brendan really believes that everything is back to normal.

But as he and Lisia keep visiting her during the following days, and weeks, Brendan learns that normality takes time, and practice, and routine to be achieved, all things that May hasn’t exactly experienced in the last months of her life.

It takes a lot of those three to even convince May to leave her hospital bed, and it’s only after much cajoling that she gets convinced into having a mock battle with Lisia.

Brendan notices that his friend’s hand shakes as she grips her Pokèball, sees how unsteady her voice is when she’s issuing her instructions.

Her Pokèmon are slowly recovering just like she is, and except for her Crobat, they don’t seem to have any kind of permanent injuries. Not physically, at least. But in this last period, Brendan has also learned that injuries take on many different forms.

He goes to pet her beloved bat Pokèmon, who’s watching the battle from the sides, alighted on the grass. May wins the first round, and Crobat squeaks in happiness. Brendan watches him sadly while caressing his head. The membrane in one of his wings is completely shredded, and he won’t be able to use it anymore.

He wonders what May and her Pokèmon had to go through on that day, as everyone does.

More than often the hospital gets invaded with hordes of merciless reporters who try to get an interview with the girl who has saved Hoenn, but no matter how many times she gets asked, May doesn’t talk about what happened into the Cave of Origin. Never.

She gets visits from her family frequently, and her mom always brings delicious homemade cakes for her and her Pokèmon. With a smile, Brendan notices she’s the happiest on the days when her father comes to see her too.

Slowly, (and well, not so steadily, because there are days in which she doesn’t want to see anyone and others where he can hear her cry through the locked doors of her room), May begins to recover.

Day after day, she smiles a bit more, steps out of her room more frequently. Lisia is always there with him and May but sometimes, Wallace or the other Gym Leaders tag along too, and help the girl train, even if it’s mostly the Water Prince visiting.

Soon, the grip on the Pokè Ball gets firmer, her voice steadier, her Pokèmon faster and stronger. Her passion for battle returns, along with the snarky remarks he had missed so much, and Brendan knows it’s just a matter of weeks until she resumes her journey and claims her last badge.

She never asks for anything, not for help, not for people’s company, except for one thing. A name.

Steven.

And Brendan hates the man, he truly hates him, because when everyone was waiting under the scorching sun and amidst the torrential rains for a sign of victory, he had already taken his Skarmory to the sky and left.

Because when everyone was at her side when she needed it the most, he wasn’t there.

Steven hasn’t visited May once since she was admitted, hasn’t contacted anyone to inquire about her well-being a single time.

Because Steven has been missing since that day.

* * *

“I really hate that man. Truly” Wallace grumbles as he rummages through piles of clothing scattered around his wardrobe shelves. “These?” he asks, picking up a set of glittery shorts and top and lifting them in the air.

“Mh-mh” bubbles Lisia from behind, shaking her head. “It’s a formal meeting, uncle Wallie. Politics. Officials from other regions. You need something less…showy, for that. But they’re truly divine, really” she sings, assuring Wallace of his well-placed fashion sense once again.

“Thank you, darling, I know” he gloats in a fake voice transuding a pretentious and sophisticated aura, “I bought them personally, after all” and they both chuckle at his small charade.

“But honestly, Li. I’m not supposed to do this! What do I do once I’m there? Show them a nice contest choreography? My Milotic’s ribbon collection?” he laments, throwing colorful hats and sequin shawls onto the bed in his dressing tantrum, and his niece smiles in delight. “Why can’t Drake go? Glacia? Literally _anyone else_?” he whines in despair. “Politics?! I was never prepared for that! Look, I don’t even have anything to wear!” he proclaims dramatically, gesturing at the clothing mess around him.

“I’m sure a thousand and two hundred-twenty-four garments don’t exactly count as ‘nothing to wear’” Lisia interjects, amused. “And you know that Drake and Glacia are busy with the League, now that Steven’s…” she cuts off mid-phrase, and goes silent in a heartbeat.

His niece’s usually bright face is now full of clouds, and Wallace knows she’s probably thinking about May and her relationship with his friend. They don't really talk about Steven (unless his usual cursing at him on these kinds of occasions counts as that), but Lisia clearly wants to ask, and she's probably going to despise the man forever if not given an explanation for his behavior towards the brunette girl. Not that _he_ has one, but in the long years of friendship they've shared, Wallace has learned one or two things about the younger man. 

He sighs, and makes his way through the battleground that’s now his room, moving to sit next to her on his big aquamarine canopy bed. “You know, Li, I think I kinda understand him,” he begins, and his voice cracks more than once, but he still continues. “At first, I really didn’t. I was furious, and who wouldn’t after their best friend leaves without even saying a word to them? To _anyone_?”. His tone is filled with melancholy, but is a bit steadier this time.

“Then I realized. You know how I always joked about Steven being so fit and having such nice legs because he kept running from his responsibilities all the time?” He smiles faintly at the memory, and Lisia nods at him from the other side of his mattress, echoing the small curve of his lips.

“There,” he announces. “Steven has never been a responsible individual, despite his professional appearance. He very much preferred to hide away in caves and pretend the outside world didn’t exist and it was only him and his rocks rather than facing what he had to do.”

Wallace knows that Lisia has already understood what he’s still trying to express, but at this point, he’s not really talking for her anymore.

“But not this time, Li. This time, he wanted to stay, and personally face everything, and he couldn’t. I’ve seen how he was. The way he _screamed_. He was ready to throw himself in that dark pit, for Arceus’ sake! He _wanted_ to be the one! ” Wallace takes a deep breath, and sighs wearily. “Except he wasn’t. Because _she_ was. I’m not saying he’s not an asshole, ‘cause he _is_ , but…I know why he’s doing this, Li. I just really wish I knew where he went so I could drag his ass over here and save myself from the embarrassment that’s gonna befall me in a few hours.”

Despite the heavy mood of the conversation, they both chuckle at his last line, and suddenly Wallace realizes something shocking.

“Wait… don’t tell me you actually _counted_ them?” he asks his niece in awe.

“Counted? I fully _organized_ your _entire_ wardrobe, before you made this mess!” she protests, throwing a pillow at him playfully.

He grabs it mid-air and throws it back at her, and they laugh and fight until they’re both beaming and covered in feathers.

“You know what, Li? Fuck this” he says, as he grabs the glittery turquoise shorts and top. “This is my payback. ‘ _Hoenn contest star and Gym Leader Wallace outshines international conference in glittering fashion’_ ” he mimics a newspaper title with his hands. “I can already picture this happening anyway. Good luck dealing with that on your return, _Stone_.”

It's only an hour and a half later that he emerges out of his bathroom, fully clad in glitters and with an open mascara tube in his hands, asking Lisia with a panicked expression on his face, “It’s not like they can arrest me for a scandalous outfit, right? _Right_ , Li?”

His niece just laughs and shoves him out of the porch (he’s pretty sure she’s invited Brendan over again, judging by the impatience of her gesture) and soon he’s on his way to Lilycove.

 _They’re definitely gonna arrest me_ , he’s thinking as soon as he arrives at the conference hall and notices a member of the Indigo Elite Four trying to freeze him in place with her cold, piercing gaze.

“What a… _peculiar_ choice of clothes, Mr. _Wallace_ ”, the red-haired woman snorts after approaching him. “Hardly appropriate for this important occasion. Distasteful, even. Especially considering your _position_ in all this.” She’s all black and business, and Wallace gulps back his discomfort because he’s sure he very much prefers his colorful and shining attire to her office-like fashion disaster.

“Thanks” he retorts, looking at the name tag on her chest “… _Lorelei_. But don’t bother asking for the brand, since I’m afraid it’s nothing you can afford, sadly”.

He’s already turned his back on her and heading towards the buffet when he hears her seething hisses, and smiles in delight. He can’t blame the woman for being envious, _especially_ since his position as an international celebrity compared to her uneventful role in a small League.

This is going _splendidly_ , he thinks. Even if they can still arrest him for his glittering shorts.

The conference ends up being incredibly boring. Not that Wallace was expecting something different, but it’s still a bit disappointing to witness. Besides, everyone seems to be avoiding him, and he doesn’t understand why. He thought he was pals with the Cerulean Gym Leader!

When several other guests move away at his passage, Wallace finally realizes the truth: he’s probably putting to shame anyone reckless enough to stand next to him and risk being compared to his magnificence in official photos, so he just blames his dazzling presence and doesn’t really think too much about it. (He’s still a bit let down when Misty eludes his gaze, because he was really looking forward to discussing water tricks for his performances with her. What a bummer!)

Hours pass, and it’s all void pleasantries and politics, and Champions from other regions basically trying to decide who’s got the biggest Pokèballs. He’s almost tempted to go hitting on a sexy blonde bag of muscles he’s spotted earlier when he’s suddenly called on stage.

Wallace wasn’t expecting to be interviewed directly, but he steps on the platform anyway. He’s glad to provide a sensual dance, should they ask. Or show his ribbon collection.

But from there, everything turns from boring to outright insulting in a matter of minutes.

There’s a man in a beige trench coat standing on the other side of the platform, and for a while he’s the one doing all the talking. “In light of the current events surrounding Hoenn”, he begins, “we deem necessary to address several matters of public concern, such as the awakening of the two primal beasts and the activities of the villainous organizations known as Team Aqua and Magma in your region.”

Wallace is almost blinded when a white round spotlight is lit up over his head, and he sees that now everyone is focusing on him as if this was one of his performances, yet not exactly in the affectionate way he’s used to. He squirms in his post, making the glitters twinkle like little stars under the hard light.

The man ignores his discomfort and goes on. “As I’m sure you’re well aware of, we are particularly concerned about the sudden disappearance of their leaders, followed soon after by the _mysterious_ one of your _Champion_.”

Wallace doesn’t miss the stress on that last word, and he can’t believe what they are even _insinuating_ about Steven.

“As his official representative in this conference, and considering the suspicious lack of information disclosed to the public regarding the whole incident at Sootopolis, we ask you to _kindly_ answer some questions.”

At that, Wallace panics.

He gets bombarded with a thousand queries, and apparently he can’t answer any of them in a convincing way, because they keep asking him those same ones again and again.

They ask him what happened in the Cave of Origin (he doesn’t know), if the Hoenn League knew about the organizations’ plans (of course not) and why they never tried to stop them (duh? He has a gym to run, and a career in the entertainment industry, why are they asking _him_?), why a young girl was sent to calm the titans instead of the Champion or any League member (the Prophecy!) and how she managed to survive (shouldn’t they ask this to the ten-year old who stopped a bio-engineered Pokèmon that destroyed an entire laboratory in Kanto some years ago?), why the Hoenn League hasn’t issued any arrest warrant for the Magma and Aqua members (they didn’t know their identities) nor their well- known leaders (well, they were busy dealing with the Apocalypse), why the Champion has disappeared and where to (if Wallace knew, he wouldn’t be here), if the girl has personal ties to anyone inside the Hoenn League (of course, their newest gym leader Norman’s her father!) and why he’s the sole member among them currently attending the conference (he’s wondering that as well).

Finally, they’re done questioning him, and Wallace sees the trench coat man get off the stage and gather a small group of people around him with whom he starts discussing heatedly.

He recognizes the blond hottie among them, together with Kalos’ League Champion and fellow entertainment celebrity Diantha, but Wallace still doesn’t understand what’s going on. They told him this was going to be a normal conference, yet now it feels like he’s being put on trial.

And he might be just right, because his verdict doesn’t take long to arrive.

He’s still in a daze when the trench coat man climbs on the platform again and resumes talking. “Taking into account all the information you’ve shared with us right now, Wallace”, and he stops and stares at him brutally for a second, “which to be fair, isn’t much and has proved to be a total act of disrespect towards the intelligence of us members of the International Police, the Kanto military forces and all the other regional Leagues reunited here - this not to talk about your totally inappropriate _outfit_ -, and adding that to the current unknown whereabouts of your main representative, we have agreed on the possibility of affiliation between the Hoenn League and the two major criminal organizations of the region, along with the potential partaking of its members in the acts of terrorism that have threatened the entire world, therefore we hereby declare the taking into custody of the Hoenn League Champion Steven Stone and his official substitute in this conference for further investigation on the matter.” 

He doesn’t even try to resist as he’s escorted outside the conference hall and inside a police car by a pair of muscular arms he would have so much preferred having on him under _very_ different circumstances, while swarms of wild reporters dance around him to take his shot for the following morning newspaper.

The last thing he sees before being pushed into the automobile is a vengeful, satisfied smirk on Lorelei's face.

Wallace gets arrested ( _taken into custody_ , technically, but to him it looks and feels the same), and it’s not for his glittering shorts (not entirely, at least).

* * *

It’s a beautiful morning in Floaroma Town, Sinnoh when the news arrive.

The sun is shining up high in the sky, and a fresh breeze makes the colorful flowers the townspeople are so proud of sway and dance with the wind on the green hills surrounding the small settlement.

In there, a young man is sitting at the local bar, peacefully drinking a cup of black coffee while reading the latest articles.

He’s just laid his eyes on the first titles when he chokes on his drink and sprays it all over his expensive custom-tailored dark grey and purple suit.

Promptly, without even trying to salvage his stained clothes, the man stands up from his seat and takes off in a hurry, leaving behind on the table a generous sum of money (way too generous for a simple coffee) and an open newspaper.

On its first page it reads in black, capital letters:

**ALL THE SHOCKING TRUTH ABOUT HOENN’S CRIMINAL LEAGUE!**

Under that, three articles stand out in a similar style:

EXCLUSIVE: HOENN CONTEST STAR AND GYM LEADER WALLACE ARRESTED DURING INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE

– but it’s in glittering FASHION! All the photos inside!

SENSATIONAL! HOENN’S CHAMPION MYSTERIOUS IDENTITY REVEALED

– Steven Stone: silver-haired dreamboat, Devon heir or evil mastermind? Learn everything about the most wanted man of the Pokèmon world in here!

SPECIAL: OUTRAGEOUS RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TEAM AQUA/MAGMA AND HOENN LEAGUE FINALLY DISCLOSED! 

\- Apparently, Wattson’s sandals aren’t the only crime against humanity of the Hoenn League! All the criminal records and dark secrets of its members leaked!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm VERY POSITIVE that next chapter will be the last real, consistent chapter of this fiction. There are only a *few* things I still really want to flesh out, but most of them were done in this chapter.  
> I hope you had a good read and if you liked this chapter (or you didn't and want to insult me for not understanding the intrinsic beauty of Wattson's sandals) please leave a comment ! I'm very grateful to whoever takes their time to leave me a small review, or even a kudos, and even if you can't see me, I always do a small dance when I see some feedback on my works!
> 
> Now, some insights/trivia on this chapter!
> 
> On Wallace's trial: I always thought that in the games the whole Groudon/Kyogre awakening was something of huge proportions, given the whole climate change aftermath of it; and even if it only affected Hoenn directly, it's easy to imagine other regions wanting to address the matter for fear of what might have happened directly or indirectly to them (or to their citizens who currently live or work in Hoenn as immigrants) if the threat hadn't been stopped on time (an entire region collapsing; the deities maybe moving to destory other regions; global import/export market deeply shaken from Hoenn's destruction etc.) 
> 
> We already know the International Police is an established organization that seeks to resolve interregional problems or world end crisis, and it only makes sense that they would intervene in this situation, especially considering how Hoenn dealt with the two teams and the beasts awakening.
> 
> I also think that all of Wallace's answers only serve as fueling any suspicion or distrust for the Hoenn League, even if the poor man's just being honest and everythng is a huge misunderstanding of situations that were either poorly dealt with, not dealt with at all or dealt with in the worst possible timing ever. I also believe that with the exception of Steven the entire Hoenn Elites don't exactly come off as sympathetic and nice to the public (even if they are) :  
> if we think about it, Drake's an old sea dog who goes around half naked and looks like he could sink the Titanic again with his bare chest alone (he probably owns a battleship too); Glacia's a real ice queen who doesn't need a song or a brand new castle to freeze her opponents alive with a glance; Phoebe is cute but has literal ghosts surrounding her and Sidney's permanent grimace isn't exactly trust-inspiring, not to talk about his casino-dandy style that does wonders in linking him with either gambling habits or a criminal organization (while he probably just likes dressing like that). So it's perfectly understandable everyone links them to Aqua/Magma, especially when no one has ever seen them actually fighting against the evil teams.


	5. Espressivo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this story would have been 3 chapters maximum? Yeah, me neither.
> 
> Enjoy!

_**Espressivo** , An instruction meaning that a passage should be played with expression, or expressively._

* * *

Wallace thinks he’s never hated white this much in his life.

Everything around him is white – from the aseptic floor through the blank walls and to the low ceiling of the small interrogation room that’s now his residence - and he’s reached a point of boredom where he’d rather dress like Lorelei than spend another minute in the place.

They’ve put him there as soon as he arrived at the police station hours before, unceremoniously dragging him inside and hauling him on a very uncomfortable chair in the middle of the room, the door at his back locking tight and shut with a sharp _clack_.

He’s been left completely alone ever since.

Wallace is surprised, because he’d thought they would interrogate him straight away, ask him other silly questions he doesn’t (and probably won’t for some time) know the answers to. Instead, the only moments he had any kind of human interaction in there were the ones in which he saw shadows walking behind the thick, tinted windows of his lock-up, soon followed by agitated chattering.

He knows they’re looking for Steven, and by now he’s also understood that they must have been unsuccessful in finding the man thus far.

He’s alone, and alone he will have to find a way out of this. From the looks of it, his friend isn’t coming to his rescue any time soon, and Wallace can’t stand being treated like a criminal for things he’s accused of having done when his one true crime was not doing anything on too many occasions.

He remembers the guilt-ridden look on Steven’s face as he flew off on his Skarmory, away from Hoenn and everyone; he remembers May’s figure collapsing outside the Cave of Origin, petite and broken yet looking as strong as a deity herself, and a sudden rush of adrenaline runs through him.

Wallace knows he needs to act, and soon, or May’s going to get dragged into this as well. And she doesn’t deserve it, not when she has already done so much while they were standing still, watching from the sidelines.

And, oh, Steven. Scared, scarred Steven. He’s acting like the worst idiot on the planet in all this mess, but he’s always worked the hardest, always tried his best in helping everyone, and they don’t know shit about him. Not like _he_ does.

He decides that he will get out, find his friend and save both their sorry asses and their compromised reputations. He won’t let other people protect him anymore.

He’s done playing the damsel in distress.

This time, Wallace would very much prefer being the criminal.

* * *

When Lisia first hears the news, she’s sitting beside May in her hospital room.

Her darling Brendan was busy with some important research for his father on that day, but she still decided to go and visit her friend alone, spending some quality time between girls.

Lisia’s bonded incredibly with the other girl during the long months of her recovery, and she’s incredibly happy to see May finally feeling better.

Sometimes, though, especially when her friend’s eyes still turn void and lifeless -even if only for an instant- Lisia can’t help but wonder how things would have gone back then if only she had been able to support May in whatever happened in that cave. If she had been stronger, strong enough to go with her. If she had just followed her inside.

Her only true relief is in knowing May’s getting discharged next week, and she is impatient to make her friend experience some trace of normalcy again. Lisia’s thinking they could go shopping, or enjoy a nice berry parfait together once the other girl’s finally free.

 _Or the temperature’s a bit hotter_ , she slightly shivers as she eyes the cold rain falling outside.

It’s an unusually windy, rainy day in Lilycove, and both her and May have gotten themselves comfortable on the soft covers of the bed, TV turned on while petting their Pokèmons and feeding them delicious cupcakes between the delighted coos of her Altaria and a whole symphony coming from May’s various companions.

They’re watching a mystery movie May adores, giggling together as Lisia keeps failing to guess who the real culprit is (all her suspects keep getting killed) when they’re suddenly interrupted by an emergency broadcast.

 _‘No!_ ’ Lisia almost wants to protest in dismay as the two words appear on the now glitching screen, because she _really_ wanted to know what was going to happen next, but she’s petrified before she can even talk by the new array of images slowly passing before her eyes.

She watches in shock as her uncle is shown on TV, dressed in glittering turquoise and being forcefully shoved into a police car, while the distant voice of a reporter explains the possible link between the Hoenn League and the two organizations that almost doomed the region.

 _‘No!’_ , she still wants to protest, to scream -even if now it’s for a whole different reason- but no sound manages to find a way out of her lips this time either.

Then Wallace’s images get replaced with an equally disturbing sight, as the screen turns black and fills with a bright, white rectangle in the center.

An ID card, with a picture and some black writings on it.

Lisia turns to face May in horror as she reads the red and large capital letters surrounding it.

WANTED: STEVEN STONE, CHAMPION OF THE HOENN REGION AND DEVON HEIR.

Just below them, in the middle of the screen, there’s a picture of Steven. He looks younger in it, as if this was taken right after he had become Champion.

She sucks in her breath, but her friend doesn’t move, eyes wide and completely transfixed.

The lingering silence that befalls both girls as they are unable to speak is deafening, even if the TV’s still on and the reporter keeps talking, saying some more displeasing things about the League and its members that Lisia’s too dazed to fully understand.

For a while, it truly feels like the only sound she can hear is the gentle and repeated _tap_ of the rain on the glass windows near her, until May stands up violently from her sitting position.

Her friend is shaking as she grabs a jacket from the small wardrobe and silently withdraws all her Pokèmon, walking towards the door. “I have to go”, she declares, voice strangled and barely coming out, and Lisia notices she’s avoiding her gaze.

“Wait, May!” she interjects, stopping the other girl before she can storm off outside. _Not again._

She quickly calls Ali back in her Pokè Ball, raincoat in hand. “I’m coming too”.

* * *

Steven knows May’s alive, wonderfully and miraculously. During his months in Sinnoh he’s seen talks regarding the heroine of Hoenn every time he’s turned on the TV, heard the stories about the girl who has saved an entire region. Some say she made a pact with the deities, others that she’s a deity herself, but no one really knows the mystery behind her survival.

Steven doesn’t, either, as neither her nor her family have released any official interviews so far, but he knows she’s made it, and that’s enough for him.

Yet, he has never gone back to see her again -and well, how could he dare to do that?

He couldn’t face her on the day he fled Sootopolis, knowing very well she might die any moment while he was frantically hopping through islands, desperately trying to reach faraway regions embarked on some ship that would bring him as far as possible from home and from the thought of losing her; and he can’t possibly face her now, not when she’s everything he ever wanted to be and failed so miserably at.

When he first came to the region, he knew very well that someday he would have to return, but he didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to go numb, to stop his wild thoughts, his restless feelings altogether.

And for a while, Steven thinks he has succeeded in doing so. The last month has been particularly generous to him, and in the small town isolated from the world and surrounded by flower fields, Steven thinks he’s found what is closest to peace as he’ll ever experience again.

He’s content with his new modest, country life, filled with nature and thoughtless days, and between excursions and delicious hot meals he almost starts to think he has stopped the nightmares as well.

Until one day he wakes up, gets dressed in his favorite suit and heads out to the local bar to start his morning routine with his usual cup of black coffee, and it’s there that Steven realizes his demons might have followed him all along.

His face is everywhere around him, from the newspaper he’s holding to the small, buzzing television at the cafè, cruelly mocking his attempt at escaping from what will truly never leave him alone, and for a moment Steven thinks this must be the righteous punishment he deserves.

Then he sees Wallace, chokes on his coffee and decides that he can’t let this happen.

 _A spineless inept_ , May had once called him. She had been right all along, but Steven can’t possibly let his friend rot in jail due to his sweet escape while he goes around in caves and is still able to enjoy espresso every morning.

He promptly stands up, empties on the table the contents of his inner pocket (hoping they will be enough to cover for his coffee) and leaves in a hurry. He doesn’t even try to wipe his stained clothes as he runs to his hotel, swiftly grabs all his things and puts them into his hiking backpack before taking to the skies.

In a matter of hours he’s already reached Canalave, completely camouflaged and with his newly forged documents in hand as he readies to embark on the next ship headed to Hoenn. Steven desperately wishes he could fly there, but his Skarmory can’t possibly withstand a trip that long, and he has left Latios at home for fear of anyone seeing the legendary Pokèmon roaming through the snowy region.

Steven also knows that airport security is probably tighter than ever, especially as everyone is looking for him right now, so he has opted for the next best solution.

As he glances at the security officer, he thinks that he’s chosen wisely. He can’t afford to get caught here, or he will be processed under the Sinnoh Law without having a chance at freeing Wallace from every accusation all the way over in Hoenn.

The round man in front of Steven is looking at him with sleepy eyes, slowly extending his hand forward.

“Documents, please” he yawns, and Steven internally exults as he hands him his master-crafted fake ID.

The inspector squeezes his eyes at the card, trying to make out the tiny letters through his glazed sight. “Vent…os…een?" he tentatively tries.

“Ventos Steen”, Steven confirms proudly, “My name”. He smiles politely at the man, and the latter smiles in return.

 _Oh_ , he thinks, _it’s almost easier than stealing rocks from kids_. Not that it’s something he does, but if he were to…well, he supposes it’d be easy. Not that he’d ever try.

After a whole minute his interlocutor is still smiling at him, and Steven is beginning to grow uncomfortable. Then the man talks, and there’s something different in his tone than before.

“Mr. _Ventos Steen,_ ” he begins mockingly, “what a poor choice of a name. Especially for a _wanted criminal._ ” His smile turns upwards, slowly becoming wider and wicked.

Steven tries to protest, tell him he’s innocent, but he’s silenced by the man’s sudden and booming laughter. “If you’re in the clear in all this, my little kid at home’s just been possessed by a nightmarish creature,” he snickers, before calling for reinforcements from across the various piers.

“I’m afraid we’d need to report you, Mr. Stone. In the hopes you get locked up for good” he quips as a small crowd of sailors surrounds him. “But it’s truly a nice catsuit you have there, truly _lovely_. My wife also has the same model, you know?”

Steven is torn between calling for his Aggron to dig a tunnel in which he could hide himself out of desperation and just punching the man on his nose when he hears a loud screech and gets hauled into the air by something fast and invisible.

* * *

Breaking out won’t be easy. Wallace is mentally mapping the place, carefully trying to retrace which way he’d been led inside. He must retrieve his Pokèmon, too, but he doesn’t know where they brought them when they took his Pokè Balls away.

What he knows, though, is that at some point surely someone will have to come and bring him something to drink, or eat, because he’s been left starving (and they can’t possibly do that to a celebrity like him). Even better, they might escort him to the bathroom, and he’ll use the chance to get a good view of his surroundings.

Wallace plans and plans, and he figures out that his best strategy is seduction. He is aware of the effect he and his fame have on people, knows the way they look at him and want to be looked at back, and he smirks. He’ll play his cards nice and slow, throwing velvety words between batting his long eyelashes, gathering as much information as possible before sprinting into action.

He’s practicing an even better version of his trademark seductive look when the door slams open.

It’s the tall, blonde and muscular guy he had seen at the conference (and whom he had wanted to hit on, he recalls), and Wallace thinks he’s truly a _lucky_ man, because -he shivers- it could have been _Agatha_ , and he’s not really into sugar grannies.

 _This guy_ , though. _This guy’s perfect_.

He’s just hoping he’s included in his preferences.

Wallace believes the man to be a military officer, given the uniform he’s now sporting, and the way it adheres to his broad, toned chest.

This incredibly attractive colossus is still standing at the door, completely silent, looking at him with a stern expression on his face, gaze firm and severe as if he’s seeing through him and his villainous plans of seduction and escape; and as Wallace exchanges his look, taking in his sharp jawline and crystal blue eyes, he’s not sure if he’s the one being seduced instead.

On a different occasion, he’d probably -surely- have asked him out.

Too bad he remembers that they’re on different sides of the battlefield in this useless witch hunt of a war.

He steals a glance at a steel nameplate pinned on his chest. _Surge,_ written in bold and squared letters.

He doesn’t manage to catch its designation, because the man slightly shifts on his feet, removing the upper part of it from his view. Now, the only remaining clue to it is a set of three little silver stars on both sides of his shoulder pads.

Wallace has never bothered learning military ranks, but he’s wishing he had. He needs to impress the man and flatter him at the same time, and what better way to do so than praise his title and the accomplishments it entails?

 _Commander_ , he’s guessing. Seems his safest gamble. But it’s also very generic, and Wallace thinks he saw an L there for a brief instant.

 _Captain, soldier_. Everything feels wrong. Wasn’t captain for ships? Besides, no L. And a soldier’s definitely lower than what it is that granted him a spot among International Police officers and Diantha at the conference.

Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, it comes rushing into him, from someplace deep in his memory that still remembers some war-romance drama he must have seen on TV ages ago.

 _Colonel._ This is it, Wallace’s sure.

“Colonel Surge”, he intones, voice filled with thick, sweet honey. He softly tilts his head in recognition and respect for the man’s title, watching him expectantly through his cat-like, emerald eyes.

After that, Wallace awaits. And silently hopes he hasn’t missed his target.

In all response, the man tenses and stiffens for a second, jawline clenched tight after hearing Wallace’s greeting.

 _Ok_ , he _might_ have missed.

When he finally speaks his voice is menacing and rumbling, just like heavy thunder before it strikes. “Lieutenant General,” he corrects, narrowing his eyes, and now his gaze is dark when he pierces him with it.

“Straight from Kanto”.

Right through Wallace’s heart.

Suddenly, the room doesn’t feel horribly white anymore.

* * *

“What do you mean you haven’t checked on him YET?!” Surge roars at his subordinates. “We brought him here exactly SIX hours ago, do you think it’d be fun if I, for example, locked you in a spare room without any food or water for the same amount of time? Without a way to avoid soaking your little panties when I yell at you like this?!!”

The two young recruits standing before his eyes are looking at him like frightened Skitties, but he goes on anyway. This is something important, something they can’t afford to do ever again. “ANSWER ME!” he thunders, startling them even more.

“B- but Sir,” one faintly tries to object, “he’s just a prisoner, and all the other forces are busy looking for the Champion and the other members…” but Surge fulminates him with his gaze before the boy can add another word.

“What have you said, private? I’m not sure I quite got you,” he says as he focuses his attention on the young one. The thunder in his voice is gone, but dark, ominous skies remain.

His sudden glacial tone probably terrorizes him even more, because he doesn’t reply this time, completely paralyzed in front of him.

He presses on. The boy needs to understand.

“ _JUST_ a prisoner, you said?” he snaps, as the growling rumble returns. “First of all, he’s a _suspect_. _NOT_ a prisoner. You’d better learn your definitions again, _private_. And second, we don’t treat prisoners NOR suspects this way.” He watches the scared boy, who’s now trembling, and explodes in a loud growl. “WE. DO. NOT. TREAT. PRISONERS. THIS. WAY. Heard me loud and clear, soldier?”

His recruit only manages a soft nod, tears already filling his eyes.

“Good”, Surge says. Except it isn’t. Who the hell even recruited these kids?

“You’re dismissed”, he waves with a firm gesture of his hand as he, too, walks outside of his temporary office in the Lilycove Police Station. He needs to check on the man, and personally apologize for the treatment he’s received. He hopes he’s doing well - _or as well as anyone could feel after being left starving for over six hours_ , he thinks angrily.

He’s seen the man -the contest star, Wallace- while he was getting interrogated by Looker and his men, and he didn’t exactly look like a survival expert. Not with his lean figure, his long, slender legs, his sinuous hips and…. Surge mentally chastises himself for wandering with his thoughts in inappropriate directions.

He barges into the horribly white interrogation room, and only after he’s already opened the door he realizes that he’s forgotten to bring anything with him, not even one cup of water.

Wallace is sitting on a chair in the middle of the blank space, legs crossed while looking intently in one direction, and Surge silently marvels at the younger’s man inherent elegance, even in a situation as dire as that.

 _He must be at the very least exhausted_. _If not thirsty, or hungry_. He frowns again at his own forgetfulness as the man’s eyes quickly turn to his.

Surge’s about to bow and apologize for the lack of any edible supplies when he notices that the contest star’s gaze on him is quite funny. His big and liquid emerald eyes are staring at his own intensely, and for a moment it almost looks as if he’s trying to… _seduce_ him?

 _Which would be something very funny indeed_ , Surge thinks. _IF it were the case_. But it clearly _isn’t_ , because the one sitting before him is a worldwide celebrity and contest star. A _-_ he tries not to think about it- _very sexy contest star_. He fails.

Why would someone like him try to seduce an old officer?

Surge is trying to brush aside his foolish hopes when Wallace speaks, calling him with a voice that’s impossibly rich and delicious.

“Colonel Surge”, he sings, and Surge immediately tenses in hearing the two words he hates more than anything else in the whole Universe combined on the other man’s tongue.

The same words he had hoped to never hear again, not when they remind him every time of a happiness he will never have.

The ones engraved forever on his backbone.

He doesn’t want to lose his cool, but his eyes still darken when he fixates them on him, and his voice hardens when the words come out of his mouth in a low rumble.

“Lieutenant General”, he says, correcting the younger man. “Straight from Kanto”.

Wallace’s eyes go wide at his response, and for a moment Surge fears he might have scared the calm and graceful star just like he did to his subordinates minutes before.

He’s wondering how he can make up for it, what he can possibly bring the man to eat that tastes good enough for his -surely refined- taste, but then the latter starts staring at him in admiration and wonder.

“ _Lieutenant..General_ , you said?”

 _Oh_ , Surge realizes in relief. _It’s just my rank._

He reddens at the thought that he must have impressed this celebrity with his silver stars, and he averts his gaze in embarrassment and gratification, looking at a corner of the room and nervously scratching his neck.

When they return on Wallace, the man has already stood up and is busy unlacing and lowering his glittering shorts in front of him.

“Wait” Surge splutters in shock and awe at the sight, “we – you- can’t. Just because I’m a Lieutenant General, doesn’t mean we- we’ve only just met and- “, but his incoherent babbling gets completely ignored as the lustrous garment falls on the white floor right before his eyes and Wallace approaches him, radiant and splendid.

He thinks that the star must be in a state of confusion and distress after being locked alone for so many hours, and Surge shuts his eyelids -even if with a certain dose of regret- to avoid falling into temptation and taking an unfair advantage of the other man’s fragile condition.

He’s telling himself that he must resist _no matter what_ , when a soft whisper catches his attention.

“Look”, it says, as light as air, and Surge obeys.

The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes are Wallace’s perfect, smooth thighs an inch from his own body.

His face burns up and he’s about to look away once more, feeling tricked and fooled by the situation and this beautiful man alike, but then Surge notices something on the innermost part of the right one, exactly where Wallace’s index is pointing at.

“Can I?” he asks, choking on his words, because he’s starting to understand what’s happening, even if he can’t possibly believe it.

Wallace just nods quietly, his features lost in a similar stupor as his, and Surge delicately kneels between his legs, brushing a thumb against his soft, warm skin.

He shifts his hand and lifts the black words with care, as if they’re the most precious thing he’s ever touched.

Because they _are_. He can fully read them now, even if he already had a feeling of what they would be.

 _Lieutenant General. Straight from Kanto._ His new, most precious treasure. His rough, frayed calligraphy on the silkiest surface he’s ever felt.

For a while, he’s breathless. Then reality kicks in, and Surge becomes instantly aware of his surroundings. Of _himself._

There’s no way the other man would want him. _Not like this_. Not _after_ this. Not when _he_ is the reason he’s locked in there.

“I’m sorry” he breathes out as he stands up once again. He’s looking at the walls, the ceiling -anything but Wallace. “You probably expected…” but he doesn’t get to finish his line.

 _It’s soft_ is the only thing Surge can think of when their lips collide and for the moments that follow. Wallace is rough and passionate, something that almost clashes with his delicate appearance, and yet in a way – it’s still incredibly _soft_.

Soon, he melts into the touch of the other man, in the sensation of his long fingers running feverishly through his hair, caressing his neck as their tongues keep chasing each other in a sultry dance inside their mouths.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this” he pants when they break away from the kiss, barely enough to breathe again and realize the beautiful disaster he is embarking onto at full force.

“I just made out with a _suspect._ ”

Wallace chuckles, and in Surge’s eyes, he is irresistible. “I promise you I’m not a criminal, despite what they’re saying about me”

“ _It was in the interrogation room_.”

“If all interrogations were like that, I’d try to misbehave every day, Lieutenant.”

For all of Surge’s useless complaints, they’re both smiling at each other with their eyes.

“I was supposed to keep an eye on you! To apologize for the poor treatment you’ve received here and…”

“…and you’ve kept them both on me, for the entire time,” Wallace interjects. “I assure you, Lieutenant, the treatment couldn’t have been _better_.” He watches as the contest star licks his lips. “Even if I could use a sip of water. My mouth’s a bit dry now, you know?”

Surge blushes furiously at the teasing gesture and the playful words, and the other man -probably sensing his awkwardness- quickly extends his hand to him.

“I’m sorry I kissed you out of the blue like that” Wallace begins, softening his voice. “I was just too happy. I’m Wallace.”

“Matis. Matis Surge. It’s my..uh, real name, even if no one knows it. But I suppose you should.” Surge feels like combusting, but he still manages to stare directly into Wallace’s aquamarine pools. “And about the kiss, I’m happy that you did it.” he offers, smiling earnestly.

Wallace flusters before replying, and it’s the first time he sees an embarrassed reaction on his soulmate’s face. “So, Lieutenant General. _Matis_ ,” he says, and Surge’s heart stops. _Arceus_ , he thinks. _The way his name sounds on his lips_. “What do we do now?”

“ _’What do we do now_ ’ indeed,’” Surge echoes him.

It’s the strangest situation he has ever found himself in, and Wallace must have thought the exact same thing because they both take in the room, stare at each other for a long moment and then start laughing.

The younger man talks first, still giggling. “Isn’t this the part when we both run off into the night and then you kiss me senseless?”

Surge chuckles. “I thought I just did that”

“Yes, but I happen to love doing encores”

A teasing smile appears on his beautiful face, and Surge’s heart skips a beat once again, for the hundredth time since he entered that horribly white room. (Which, in all honesty, doesn’t seem that horrible anymore).

He mentally resigns to buy himself a defibrillator and assist a suspected criminal in his escape.

“First, let’s get out of here. Then we’ll see about the kissing”, he declares, holding the door open for Wallace to pass through.

He might be just losing his career, but this time Surge feels like he’s winning so much more.

* * *

May’s mind goes blank as she runs through the damp and grey streets of Lilycove, the cold rain hitting her skin and wetting her hair at every step. She hears Lisia panting behind her, desperately trying to catch up, but she keeps running, faster and faster, until her legs ache and her breath becomes ragged. She doesn’t know what she’s truly running from -or to, if it’s the sudden realization of the danger Wallace and the other gym leaders are currently facing, her idealistic need to protect her friends from the big, giant mess she has made or just the newly-found knowledge of Steven’s real identity, something that only fueled in her the conviction that she didn’t really know anything about him, nor she had any right to.

Among the falling raindrops, the shock from the unexpected revelation is still visible on her face, yet now it’s slowly being replaced with something else -frustration, and anger.

Because, unbeknownst to her and all her insults, _he_ had always been the Champion, that very holder of a title she thought she didn’t even know and yet hated more than anything. That one person who had conquered everything she would ever want, was everything she could ever hope to become.

May always thought that the mysterious young man which appeared on her tv many years ago would have revealed himself to be a pompous brat, someone naturally gifted with talent who had a chance at his big adventure and made it through every battle until he reached the top spot in his region at such a young age, humiliating all his challengers from his high, golden (or obsidian, whichever fitted a narcissistic imbecile better) throne, while she was sitting idly in Johto, trapped inside her house for years without even a starter to keep her company.

She expected -almost _wished for_ \- someone whom it would feel right to despise. 

Instead, May got him.

Steven.

Warm, kind and gentle Steven. Steven who told her to follow her dreams. The guy who fueled her resolve to take his place one day, who smiled and laughed as she called him names unaware of his title in that damp seaside cave.

Steven who fought at her side in Southern Island, who concealed his strength not to embarrass her, who invited her to dinner despite her bashing his corporation and its inventions. Steven who rescued her when she was on the brink of death, alone and freezing, who gave her his jacket and a Mega Stone -a Blazikenite-to keep her warm throughout the night. The one who held her tight on the way to Sootopolis, who tried to embrace her before she disappeared forever.

Steven whose lips were so warm against hers. Steven who wasn’t her soulmate, and probably didn’t want anything to do with her after her desperate and unwanted gesture anymore. Steven who left. Steven whom she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see again.

She cringes in shame at the memory of her past foolishness, and her feet dash through the puddles on the wet asphalt in a desperate race against time and her own personal regrets.

For how much she hates to admit it, May never once believed the mysterious Champion (or any League professional for that matter), to be an _unskilled baboon_ , or a _spineless inept_ as she had called his position when she unknowingly first met him in Granite Cave. In truth, she both admired and envied him with all her might, and dreamt of the day she would achieve something as great and as meaningful as he did. The day she would get that title, and become the very best as well.

This admission alone is enough to sting her eyes and lash at her heart, because May already knows too well that even if one day she would become Champion, the two of them couldn’t be more different, more apart from each other. For all this time, she’s the one and only who’s been the pompous brat all along, and May hates to think back on her childish remarks and her -still- immature behavior, even more so in this situation when her own internal turmoil has caused additional problems for Steven and the League.

Now, thanks to her cowardice, Wallace’s already locked up in jail for interrogation, the guy she has the biggest crush on is a wanted criminal, and May knows it’s well, not _all_ her fault, because _who the heck leaves the region like that_ , but her silence surely had a part in all this and she can’t just ignore her responsibilities on the matter like she's done until now.

 _"Fuck"_ she snaps as she steps into a particularly deep puddle and completely soaks her feet in it. _Fuck_.

If anyone saw her now, she would simply look like a careless teenager gone outside without an umbrella who's cursing both at the weather and the muddy mess on her boots (which in all honesty, isn't an entirely wrong guess) if not for the fact that for once, this girl's foul mouth isn't directed at something - or someone- else, but at herself instead.

For a while, May has dreaded this moment, because she always knew the day would come in which the truth would be exposed and the whole world would be able to see how pathetic the heroine of Hoenn truly was -and yet, she had tried to postpone the inevitable, cooping up in her hospital bed and refusing to acknowledge the entirety of the events of that wretched day to even her dearest friends, in fear they would find out everything with only the slightest hint.

Now, she knows she can't avoid it happening anymore, and even if she's almost tempted to turn around and run away somewhere far, far away where she can get lost forever, her feet move on their own towards the Conference Hall - _her soon-to-be public execution spot_ , she thinks.

In a way, however, it's almost relieving how she can finally face her own failures, admit to everyone the farce she has been for all this time. There's no undoing what has been lost on that day, but she can at least spare her friends this sickening disaster, if only now she manages to be a little stronger than she had been back then. A little braver, a little better. A little bit more like the Champion she so much wants to become.

_If only._

Through streets and squares, crossroads and interjections, May's grateful for the rain, because at least under it no one can see the tears that are falling from her eyes in a very ungraceful and probably pathetic way.

 _Gosh, when did I become such a crybaby_? she thinks.

She only stops when she’s in the middle of the city square, the tall building standing as high as the sky in front of her.

As she approaches, she only hopes she can make everything alright.

May announces to the crowds of frenzied reporters and curious folks still surrounding the hall her intention to release an official statement regarding the events at the Cave of Origin, and immediately every camera is turned on her and Lisia, their white flares flashing repeatedly on their faces like dancing Volbeats during a summer night.

It's revolting how desperate and hungry they are for a new exciting story, for snippets on information about Wallace’s imprisonment, Steven’s whereabouts and her own 'heroic' tale. May can’t provide any information on the previous two, and despite Lisia being the Water prince’s niece, the contest star is as bewildered as she is at the recent news involving her uncle and is refusing to answer any kind of question, preferring to stand at her side and holding her hand when her speech begins.

And in it, May tells them everything, all the little moments in which she had witnessed the League and its members fighting against crime for the sake of the region they all loved and cherished as their home, from that one in which Steven fought at her side to protect Latias, the Eon Pokèmon whose ballads and myths sang about, against the hands of the two Teams, until the time in which he retrieved her half-dead on a little strip of sand amidst the ocean and brought her to Sootopolis, him and Wallace explaining everything they could about the legendaries to aid her as best as they could against a prophecy that seemed far too cruel for her to bear alone.

She tells them of her descent into the dark abyss, of her Pokèmon’s fight against the titans, of Latias’ sacrifice as she jumped out of her Pokè Ball in a blast of light and engaged their primal forms alone, tricking them with her invisibility into fighting each other again before they turned their attention on her weak and slow trainer once more.

She admits her own uselessness in protecting not only a legendary Pokèmon, but her friend- her companion as well, the one who stood in front of a tsunami of lava and water aimed at a half-unconscious May, who took that fatal hit before reflecting it back to Groudon and Kyogre at full force.

Latias' last, desperate attempt at saving everyone, including her worthless trainer who was trembling with fear against the stone walls while the Eon Pokèmon fought for all their lives, creating a living hell in which her body and the round object that used to contain it were lost forever.

May knows that the only reason she's alive is because of what Latias and her other Pokèmon have done on that day in her place, when she was too scared to even move, and they -not her- are the ones who truly saved Hoenn. She announces their names one by one, presenting the region's true saviors aloud in the deafening silence of the square's collective disbelief.

By the time she’s finished, she’s exhausted in both body and spirit, and the only thing that prevents her from falling and hitting the wet ground is Lisia’s gentle but firm grip on her shoulder.

Then, as May had expected, the yelling starts, but it doesn’t take long for her to realize that it's for a very different reason than the one she was anticipating.

In fact, she never even considered the fact that people might not believe her side of the story.

Chaos erupts among the crowd, and she hears screams of protest, saying that they don’t believe her, that her father is part of the League and she’s surely trying to cover for him, going as far as to put herself down to do that.

These idiots are still calling her _heroine_ after everything she has just told them, commenting on what a pity it is the savior of Hoenn turned up to take the criminals’ side in all this mess, that she can’t keep protecting those outlaws just because she fixed everything at the end, that the world deserves justice for what they tried to do.

They've even started suggesting her relationship to the Champion is suspicious as well, that some elders living in Sootopolis claimed to have seen them kissing, and May wants to scream loud enough to top their stupid buzz, wants to shout that neither her father nor Steven had anything to do with the teams’ operate, that even their leaders themselves had changed their beliefs and reshaped the organizations before disappearing, that the only one to blame should be her alone because she almost doomed the world, but the last allegation thrown at her still feels like a knife planted a tad too deep inside her chest, and she is silenced by the pain, cursing herself for having gotten too close to him now that her actions are only worsening the situation.

She mentally vows to never approach Steven Stone again, except for the moment she will have to face him in battle and get his title, and then she’ll forget all about him -just like he probably already did with her.

And maybe then she will try to find her own happiness, her own soulmate. _Maybe._

But not before she kicks these people asses, because now she’s truly had enough of hearing them insulting her friends, making up silly accusations and spreading false rumors like they're nothing that could potentially hurt the League members on a personal level -they're simple human beings despite their skills after all, and May knows they can feel sadness and pain just like anyone else, something these people seem to have forgotten.

Even Lisia is crying at her side in that unnerving, quiet and composed way of hers after some particularly nasty words were thrown against her uncle, and May understands she can't just watch this shit unfold before her eyes any longer, not as she did on the day Latias died. 

(Not again. _Never_ again.)

They're saying that the authorities have already been alerted and the police are coming to arrest her as well, and in all honesty, she can't figure out exactly what she still has to lose. When someone in the crowd yells that she made up the tragic story of her Pokèmon’s sacrifice, May finally implodes.

If they really want to treat her like a criminal, she’d rather give them a _valid_ reason to do so. Diplomacy’s never been her thing anyway, and she's feeling feverish with pent-up feelings that are begging to be unleashed.

May’s about to replicate her Blaziken’s signature Double Kick move on a reporter’s precious equipment when a shadow looms above her figure and a chorus of surprised voices gasps in unison, halting her before the hit lands and prompting her to raise her head and look at the source of all the marvel. 

When she does, May chokes and coughs at the sight - at this point she's not sure if it's the fever she might have caught standing still under the cold, pouring rain that's making her hallucinate, or if the one before her eyes is truly a divine apparition, sent to stop her from performing the evil and nasty acts she's _very_ tempted to perpetrate at the moment. 

Because, dazzling and handsome as ever, suspended mid-air by something invisible that makes him look as if he’s descended from the heavens above there is Steven himself, looking downwards at her and the horde of enraged citizens in which she's surrounded.

And he's wearing a black catsuit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the pace in this chapter might feel a bit slow compared to the previous ones, because in here all the events are condensed in more or less the same time frame and there are no huge timeskips or ways for me to speed up things in a significant way. I still hope that you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless, and that you lovely readers could give me some feedback on it whether you hated it or loved it! I only have 1 very small chapter + the epilogue left to do, and I'm thinking about putting them together since they will both be short, but again, I'm not good at estimating things ahahaha.
> 
> As for our usual TRIVIA CORNER, this time we have Steven in Sinnoh!  
> His appearance in Floaroma Town is not something that happens in the games, but you can find a man in Platinum referencing a mysterious young man who gifted him a villa and who came to Sinnoh to collect rare stones, and it is widely believed that this man might very well be Steven ( who the heck would buy a villa just to collect stones and then gift it if not his rock nerd ass?)
> 
> And man, Steven's disguise! I came up with Ventos Steen by looking at online anagram websites, and I can totally imagine Steven doing that and being confident of his sneakiness ahahah!
> 
> Next, we have the sailor who stops Steven! He is actually a ship captain whose son gets haunted by Darkrai and falls into a deep slumber. You can find him in Canalave in the post-game, and he forces you to go to Newmoon Island on his own boat in order to fight the mythical Pokèmon and free his son.  
> I thought this “If you’re in the clear in all this, my little kid at home’s just been possessed by a nightmarish creature” would be a nice and humorous wink to the canon events.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this trivia and the two lovebirds Wallace and Surge getting finally together in the most romantic setting possible (sorry not sorry).  
> Also, May kicking or punching stuff belonging to ̶a̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶s̶ not very nice people when she becomes really angry and protective is something I totally imagine her doing, even if she's not a violent character per se.
> 
> Stay tuned for the grand finale!


	6. Martellato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so much time to upload, but I've broken two fingers recently and writing has become a real pain...
> 
> As always, enjoy and tell me what you think of the chapter! ^^

_**Martellato** ; a musical notation to indicate that the note is strongly accented, or hammered out_

* * *

When May lays her eyes on Steven in the middle of the Lilycove City Square, she almost believes the whole situation to have turned into a splendid dream, or a terrible nightmare -maybe even _both_ ; and the bare fact she can’t seem to decide between the different options sends her thoughts spiraling wildly into confusion.

His _unconventional_ -to say the least- attire doesn’t really help either, because to May his black and adherent suit looks like something materialized straight from one of her mother’s sappy romance novels narrating the love adventures of gentlemanly thieves; and this, of course, only strengthens her belief that everything that has happened in the last hours must belong to the dream world in which she’s still currently trapped, along with the fact that no one should be able to look _that_ _good_ in whatsoever piece of clothing (not to mention in that particular outfit)

Unfortunately for her, May quickly comes to realize the realness of her circumstances when Steven begins to descend onto the ground in circular motions, and she slaps her own face in an idiotic -and unsuccessful- attempt at waking up, ending up staring at the man in disbelief with a red handprint stamped on her cheek.

It’s the first time she sees him after the titans’ ordeal -excluding his brief yet memorable cameo on national television- and their last encounter still burns like acid on her lips, fresh despite all the months that have passed since that wretched day in Sootopolis.

To her utmost displeasure, it still stings.

May doesn’t want to admit it, but during the long days ungracefully spent on her hospital bed, she had longed for him to come and visit her many times, fantasizing about the instant he would come through the sad white door of her room to bring in beautiful and colorful flowers before pulling her into an affectionate embrace.

And now, while the bouquet of her dreams might still not be there, its dreamlike delivery man definitely _is_.

And she doesn’t know what to do.

May wants to say something to break the spell, but her voice dies in her throat and not a sound escapes her parted lips -for better or worse, given the fact she’s not feeling particularly benevolent at the moment.

She suspects part of her indecision -and the subsequent bitterness stemming from it- might be related to the fact that whilst she was lost in her fantasies of candle-light dinners and passionate kisses shared under the ethereal moonlight that shone on his silver hair, her bed-ridden days of longing had quickly turned into weeks, and those weeks into months.

Needless to say, Steven never once came.

In fact, every time she inquired about his whereabouts she was met with only awkward silence and nervous stares, and whenever the door to her room creaked open, it had always revealed someone else’s face instead.

May now curses her own foolishness and idiocy, because back then she had known her crush was something _silly_ and _stupid_ and _girlish_ she would have _never_ in her right mind dreamt of, yet she still had preferred turning a blind eye to all the signals that screamed _he doesn’t feel the same way_ and to the knowledge of them not being soulmates _,_ making up crazy excuses for his absence instead -from business emergencies that required him somewhere else to extravagant hypothesis of a sudden amnesia that made him forget all about her.

All this, just to keep dreaming.

Deep down though, somewhere in her heart May doesn’t like to rummage through, she understood the implications of his behavior and came to accept it, even if it hurt.

Slowly, with time, she stopped hoping and waiting, knowing fully well she had most likely misinterpreted his every gesture, filtering their interactions through her dreamy eyes and personal desires.

And the worst part was, she couldn’t even blame him for it _._

 _It would have all been so much easier if he was a bad guy_ , May thinks, one who had led her on and used her for his own, selfish pleasure. If he had turned out to be a self-entitled asshole of a Champion, a spoiled prick full of himself who basked in the family business’ riches and spat on everyone else, going around seducing girls with his status and money.

Like that, she could have hated him, at least. It’s so much easier to forget someone you can remember by as a disgusting individual, all in all, rather than someone great who doesn’t reciprocate you.

Instead, all Steven ever did was being exceptionally kind and polite, whilst she was the one who tried to force him into a role he clearly didn’t want, going as far as to push her physical affection onto him.

A role which, according to destiny, was meant for someone else in her life.

And lately, to forget the shame and regret of her first rejection, May had been thinking exactly about her true soulmate, wondering if maybe going out with boys on dates wouldn’t be the horrible and unpleasant experience she always imagined, if it meant she’d find the other end of her red thread.

That’s what everyone wanted, after all. What love was about, as far as as she knew it. From her parents to Brendan and Lisia, everyone was incredibly happy with whoever destiny had chosen for them.

Why wouldn’t she be as well?

And so, distracted with her new thoughts, for a while May believed the heartache and the pain caused by those unrequited, unnecessary feelings were gone, until-

Until Steven is in front of her, gesturing at her and Lisia in what she believes could only be a signal to hop on his invisible steed, and May barely manages to wake herself up from her stupor in time and shake her head vehemently.

Even if she wasn’t expecting to see him again (at least not _this soon,_ and certainly not while he’s the most wanted man in all the regions for different motives than the ones she would personally think of), there’s no way May’s letting surprise overwhelm her and allow him to treat her like some sort of damsel in distress who needs to be rescued by his ridiculous scenic entrance on Latios’ back. Not after he left without a word, and even if she is. (In distress, at least. She’s not so sure about the damsel part, especially as her leg is still raised in the air and aimed at the front row cameras in the semblance of a kick not yet delivered.)

Her tough act of independence seems to work just fine, because then, as if he’s resigned to change his plans after her refusal, Steven sets foot onto the damp concrete and the invisible shape below him changes as he dismounts from the Eon Pokèmon.

May observes the scene in awe and horror, because if she wasn’t prepared to explain a crowd of strangers her failures, she can’t imagine what telling Latios his twin sister is dead and it’s all her fault will be.

Between this and Steven’s return, she isn’t sure if her heart can take any more. Her legs have started shaking, and it’s not from the cold -not entirely, at least.

But then, the dragon drops its mirror coat, revealing shimmering red scales underneath, along with a pair of liquid golden eyes staring intently into hers.

Red and golden, where she was expecting blue and crimson.

At that, despite having survived the handsome man's theatrical appearance, May goes weak at the knees like the perfect dramatic maiden one could only see in a cheap romantic movie ( or at the Sootopolis Water Gym almost every day if they knew Wallace ), and Lisia’s arms are the only thing standing between her and the concrete as she falls and gets caught in their solid grip. 

She doesn’t grasp much of what happens in the conference after that, except for _her Latias’_ presence next to her and the faint pink glow of Psychic surrounding her body and those of the other people there.

Then, images of the events from Southern Island and the Cave of Origin pass before her eyes, and May relives each single moment, just like she did many times in her nightmares.

This time, however, everything’s from Latias’ point of view, and she sees once again her and Steven’s joint fight against the Teams to protect the Eon and her twin brother, before the scene changes to depict a chamber filled with water and magma, the titans ready to wreak havoc inside it.

She keeps watching as the tidal wave aimed at her gets absorbed by Latias instead, who uses it to defeat the beasts before falling into the water, ending in a deep slumber at the bottom of the sea.

Broken and injured, but alive, despite everything.

_Her beautiful, selfless Latias._

She learns how she had survived, awaking on the shores of a region far, far away from Hoenn. A region in which she had recognized an aura belonging to someone she knew, with whom she had returned just in time to her.

 _And she’s safe,_ May thinks. _She’s safe, and she’s saving us all again,_ she realizes when she notices what her Pokèmon is trying to prove.

But she and Latias don’t hang around for long enough to see the change on these people’s faces, and the only thing on May’s mind as she feels her beloved Pokèmon’s face pressed into her hands and finds herself soaring the skies on her back, is that this, among all the options her brain couldn’t previously make sense of, could only be the splendid dream, and she doesn’t want to ever wake up from it.

* * *

It’s an unexpected meeting, the one that befalls Steven in the big white halls of Ever Grande.

It’s a lazy day of late summer, and the Devon heir can see the Skiplooms that have migrated all the way to Hoenn from Johto in search of a warmer climate to spend the upcoming winter in reflected all around the tall glass windows of his room.

He has always been fascinated about their migrations. There are so many this year that they not only float incredibly close to the League building, but have even formed a long strip of green in the sky which is visible in the distance. The sight takes his mind occupied, for the most part, as he basks in the filtering sunlight, watching them gleefully dance in the air.

The Champion’s quarters are not a place he usually enjoys spending time inside, and yet here he is. _Waiting._

The grandeur and barrenness of them hit him hard every time he sets foot inside, especially when he compares this almost alien space to his small house in Mossdeep, brimming with books and his precious stones; or to his childhood villa in Rustboro, chic and luxurious and yet ever classic and welcoming, full of his father’s ancient fossils.

To him, this accommodation feels soulless in a way that never fails to unnerve him.

He’s barely even got the time to set foot in Hoenn again that he once more finds himself chained by his duties. Tied to this place. In a way, Floaroma was so much better. Demons of guilt and regret following him aside, of course.

With a sigh, he turns his head away from the dancing Skiplooms and to the blank walls trapping him. Ever Grande has so much empty space, and not a single rock display case to fill it.

Which is terribly unfair, because all the Elites got to customize their own hall -every last one of them, with the exception of him, _and only him_ \- since the Champion room was deemed far too important and prestigious to be modified.

 _‘Besides, you’d only fill it with rocks!’_ his father had said. Which was _exactly_ Steven’s point in customizing anything, but they’ve long discussed it, and still no displays were allowed in.

So Steven keeps sighing, and waiting. As he glances again outside the window, he sees that the nearest Skiplooms are gone, and only the long stripe formed by their little bodies atop the still surface of the rich blue ocean remains in his view.

He hopes his challenger won’t take too long,

After all, he knows she’s come for him.

He’s known ever since the League officers told him a mysterious individual had completed the victory road, just a few hours before.

He’s also known ever since Wallace told him she had defeated him, taking his medal not longer than two weeks ago.

But in truth, he has always known, ever since he met her for the first time in that cave, in a time belonging to such long ago that it feels like an eternity has passed. That one day she would stand before him, in these very halls. That she would take his place and claim his throne.

Steven hasn’t seen May since the day of the conference, in which she flew off into the sky on her Latias’ back much like he did after their previous meeting in Sootopolis.

 _Which is almost ironic_ , he thinks. How he ran away from her -from everything, really. But most of all, from himself- and yet when she did that very same thing a part of his heart -a crazy, malfunctioning part- still expected to be somehow greeted and welcomed after months of absence, expected her to spin around some more in the clouds and then descend next to him, telling him how much she missed him with a hug or how much of a jerk he had been before slapping him soundly in front of everyone.

_Everything would have been fine to him._

She didn’t. He received nothing.

_Exactly what I deserved._

Steven thinks he might have lost her forever in that stormy sky.

When he hears the doors of his room opening, he doesn’t turn to face them. His gaze remains on the perfect blue in front of him, on the waves gently crashing against the reef, on the big waterfall pouring its contents into the sea.

What was his Champion speech again? He hasn’t received a challenger in such a long time he doesn’t remember the words anymore.

He blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind, hoping he sounds formal enough.

_(Hoping he doesn’t sound formal at all)_

"Welcome, May. I was hoping I would get to see you make it here one day."

Good, he’s going well. Too bad he can’t say the same thing for his heart.

"Tell me… What have you seen on your journey with your Pokémon? What have you felt, meeting so many other Trainers out there? Traveling this rich land of Hoenn… Has it awoken something inside you?”

His cheeks blush profusely at his last words. Was it too much? He hopes it somehow won’t show when he will have to meet her eyes in just a matter of seconds. But for now, he’s still turned to face the windows, alone with his embarrassment and uneasiness.

He thinks of a good way to end his speech, and finds none. None that is not incredibly cringe-inducing, at least.

In the end, Steven guesses nothing can be worse than his scenic entrance on Latias’ back at the conference, and his princely act on that very same occasion. What was he even thinking, back then? Hoping to impress his fair maiden, perhaps?

He mentally scolds at himself.

A prince doesn’t abandon his kingdom for months, especially after letting other people take care of it in his stead.

He sighs, setting for concluding his embarrassing monologue in the shortest time possible. 

“I…I want you to come at me with all that you've learned. My Pokémon and I will respond in turn with all that we know!"

Steven knows he probably overdid it with this last line, and he wishes he could say he’s not paid enough to do this, to give speeches, but that wouldn’t be true. He’s just incredibly nervous, and this time he knows exactly _why._

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of hands clapping. He wasn’t expecting such a reaction from May, and his chest tightens, if only a little.

He moves away from the window. “May, I-“

“Wow man, that was so cool! Honestly, such an incredible speech! Can we battle now, Mr. Stone?”

Steven turns around in shock and disbelief.

A pale, sick-looking child is looking at him beneath his tea green hair, so tousled and messy they are partially covering his face from view.

“Uhm, excuse me-”the boy continues, and Steven swears he can see his eyes glint with something akin to disappointment before his squeaking voice fills the room again, abd he mumbles shyly “…excuse me for asking, Sir, but where is your throne in here? This girl I know was always rambling about how the Champion would have this massive-looking obsidian seat, made of dark crystal and covered in the blood of Zigzagoons and I really came all the way here just to beat you and sit on it, Mr. Stone! Yet the only thing I can see in this room is a boring plastic chair!”

Steven wants to faint.

He doesn’t.

“Where is May?” he asks, more to himself than his unexpected guest.

The kid still answers.

“Oh, yes, how stupid of me! You must be friends, right! She also gave you a nickname! I believe it starts with b…and ends with _oon…_ something? I think it’s so cute! I met her on my way here some hours ago, she told me she was going to tame that giant serpent of legends… the one that flies, you know!”

_B…oon? Buffoon? Baboon?_

_The giant serpent of -what?_

_The one that fl- **WHAT**?_

He takes again one look outside his windows. The strip of Skiplooms is still high up in the sky, far away in the distance.

It almost looks like a…serpent.

He turns his PokèNav on. Twenty-eight missed calls.

A single message _._

 _Mossdeep Space Center_. _Come immediately._ Signed _Joseph Stone – Devon CEO, Fossil Expert, Your Father._

This time, Steven faints for real.

* * *

Zinnia always knew the girl was extraordinary. And yet, she wasn’t expecting for herself and her machinations to be found out such ahead of time.

“ _What are you doing out there? Reveal yourself!”_ May yells one night, way past bedtime, pointing at Zinnia’s hiding spot in the shadows just outside the little window of her room.

The heroine of Hoenn, as people called her, had just gone back to Littleroot to rest after winning her last medal just before embarking for the Elite challenge, and Zinnia had followed her there.

Like she always did.

Always from afar, always from a distance.

Watching. Evaluating this half of the truth, the one that resided in this world.

This time, Zinnia had hidden herself in the branches of a big tree near the girl’s house. But her sleeping face, that night, shining under the moonlight quietly seeping in from the curtains, had reminded her so much of that other half, the one long gone.

So Zinnia had come closer, climbing on her rooftop and carefully positioning herself on the edge of the window as not to fall down.

It was so stupid. _She_ was so stupid.

They were nothing alike, not when this girl’s short chestnut hair barely grazed her neck where Aster’s long, blond strands would have gone down to her waist instead, splayed on the covers and across the mattress like a golden halo around her head.

Zinnia only now realizes how tall Aster had really been. How she would always take so much space on their bed, compared to this shorty. She remembers the two of them always wrestling in their sleep, fighting for the covers, and a faint smile adorns her lips.

 _Aster’s chest was also much, much fuller_ , Zinnia thinks, and her cheeks tint with pink just like Aster’s always did after one of their kisses, ever so slightly. Coloring the mark on her cheek, the one that mirrored hers.

Her beloved’s nose was larger too, and covered in freckles. Her lips were rosier, plumper. Zinnia loved kissing them so much. She loved kissing all of Aster so much.

She loved Aster, so, so much.

She still does.

Always will.

Zinnia only realizes what a huge mistake this has been when the girl opens her eyes.

May-

-and Aster.

They were nothing alike, truly. But at the same time, their eyes were the same. The exact hue of sapphire, the shared brightness between them, their unique way of shimmering beneath the moonlight.

Just like May’s are doing now, staring straight at the window. At her.

“What are you doing out there? Reveal yourself!” she yells, pointing a finger in her direction, and Zinnia ducks down. But it’s too late, she knows it’s too late.

The girl has already seen her, and comes rushing to the window.

Zinnia ponders jumping down, for a moment, assessing the risks. A broken rib, probably. And her fingers too, if she won’t be careful in closing them into fists before. Also, probably -but not surely- a sprayed ankle at best, and a broken leg at worst. But if she managed to hit the bushes in her fall maybe-

She almost gets knocked off the edge when the girl opens her window.

“Who are y- hey, why are you **_crying_**?” May inquires, still partially yelling.

Zinnia only notices the tears streaming down her cheeks when she is pulled inside the room, and into a warm embrace.

It’s not like they become immediately friends after that, but well, that night?

They still decide to run away together.

(Not that May has really a choice, when Zinnia tells her that another catastrophe will befall Hoenn and that Devon is already on its glorious way to doom at least one world, if not two, and that her wannabe-boyfriend will most likely become a genocidal maniac if they don’t stop his and his father’s plans.)

Looking back at it it’s ridiculous, really, how May blindly follows her from Littleroot into Meteor Falls without even questioning her, only grumbling something along the lines of “ _He’s not my wannabe-boyfriend, nor anything of the sort”_ with way more bitterness than the clarification required.

It’s terrifying how much crazy shit this girl has already experienced to be able to instantly believe the claims of someone who says she has come from another dimension, Zinnia thinks, one that got destroyed by the same people that will attempt to do so now, once again, yet in a different timeline. People that May knows, that she should trust better than a stranger.

Yet the girl doesn’t, and still follows her inside the damp canyon of tunnels and caves.

 _Humans. Ever so unpredictable_. Zinnia grins from eye to eye, almost ferally.

She can definitely see the resemblance between them now, even without looking at her eyes. In this way, they are one and the same. Always trusting, always believing in the good of the world.

But Aster died to due to her good naivety, and Zinnia is adamant in not letting this happening to May as well.

It’s a tough destiny, being the Chosen One.

Not that Zinnia could ever possibly relate. She has always been just a guardian, and a poor one at her job, too.

“This was once the home of the draconids,” Zinnia explains, stepping into a depression in the terrain likely caused by a fallen meteor. “My people. There’s not many of us living here now, just me and my grandma left. Not after…” she takes a deep breath, and continues, “not after Ast- our leader died in that destroyed world, and what was left of us got sent to this other dimension.” She’s pretty sure her voice faltered and choked more than once in saying that, especially at _her_ name, but it doesn’t matter.

It’s been so long since she’s said it out loud.

“I’ll explain everything better once inside, I promise. I just need you to follow me in the cave. I’ll also make sure you get something to eat” Zinnia gestures at the dark entrance, clouded in an eerie mist of the night and enveloped in darkness.

Out of pity, or that dangerously good aforementioned naivety, May probably decides to ignore the fact that she’s sounding just like a serial killer would, and keeps walking at her side.

Right inside the dragons’ den.

* * *

“Your grandma is the absolute BEST,” May exclaims while devouring another bowl of stew. “This is shimply...delishious…mmmh” she hums appreciatively between gulps, the sounds of Zinnia and her grandmother’s quiet laughs along the warm crackling of the fireplace accompanying her meal.

“So you just… believe us?” the young draconid asks her, a somewhat incredulous expression on her face.

“I don’t shee why I -mm..shouldn’t” she replies, placing her empty bowl on the carpet at her feet. She had never expected the inside of a cave to be so cozy and comfortable, honestly. They even hung small lanterns to the ceiling, which fill the ambient with a relaxing orange, dim light.

“And what about the Stones?” Zinnia inquires, and May suffocates a small laugh when her grandma follows up with “Oh yes, that silver haired dreamboat! What about him, young lady? I remember his father being quite the charming specimen too, back in the days-“

”Grandma, please!” Zinnia looks absolutely mortified, and Mays’ laughter only deepens.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t believe them,” she states, pensively, “especially given I’ve still not heard of this calamity -this, erm, _alien Pokèmon meteor_ \- from anyone else than the two of you yet.”

One of which just admitted into stalking her around the region for months, under the pretense of ‘assessing’ her abilities, watching her while she slept and inviting her inside dark caves in the middle of the night trying to use food as a lure; while the other, albeit extremely active, is more on the side of archeological find than anything. _Maybe Mr. Stone will take a liking to her as well_ , May thinks.

In truth, despite Zinnia’s disturbingly creepy approach, there’s a reason why she has followed her all the way there with the risk of being disposed of and her body thrown into a sunless pit, but May’s not going to admit it. Not out loud, at least.

Partially, it had been the curiosity for the grim splotch of black on the girl’s face, bearing letters so ruined and distorted it was almost illegible. May couldn’t make it out clearly, but judging by the length of it, she figured out it must have been a single word.

Mostly, it was just the way that girl had cried while watching her from the window. The way she embraced her, whispering a name that was not her own.

It had felt exactly watching the herself from years ago, the night after receiving her mark, curled up in a ball and crying her heart out, trapped in a house and a life that did not really feel like her own, while everyone else was -seemed- so free to her.

Like watching herself barely more than a month ago, broken and shattered on her hospital bed, deluding herself in broad daylight with fantasies of an impossible romance while tossing and turning at night with nightmares of Latias giving up her life while she stood by and _watched_.

Somehow, all of Zinnia’s story was so absurd it totally made sense. And that incredible sadness… in a way, it had seemed to May that at one point, she and this girl must have felt the same.

That she, too, had lost something – _someone_ \- so very dear to her.

May wonders if Zinnia’s even aware of what had escaped her lips, and who that Aster person might be -or _have been_. She’s no stranger to the legends surrounding faded soul marks, if the one on her cheek belongs to that category. For some reason, thinking about it makes May shiver.

She creeps closer to the fire and stretches her legs on the multitude of carpets and fabric covering the floor, before going on.

“But I do think that if they in fact did what you said, they must have been… misguided, somehow. I do not believe St- I mean, the Champion, or Mr. Stone, to be evil people who purposefully go around destroying worlds.”

If Zinnia hears her slip of the tongue on Steven’s name, she ignores it. May mentally thanks her for not dwelling on it. “Then what do you suggest we do, shorty?”

May’s face reddens. “Hey, don’t call me that! I’m not that short! Besides, I thought a smartass superhuman woman like you would have understood what to do way sooner.” She sticks her tongue out at the other girl in a childish way, but Zinnia doesn’t seem to mind her as she promptly mimics her gesture with an amused grin. The sudden easygoing moment feels almost unreal, but it’s clear they both desperately needed it.

“It’s easy, no?” May glows, even if deep inside she is hoping with all her heart that only the elder Stone will be present at the small meeting she’s about to propose. She’s still not ready to face Steven, not after he left for months and then she did the same for about another one, a poor copy of the very behavior that hurt her so much. She thinks she would enjoy immensely teasing him for his skin-tight catsuit were she to see him though, along with his ridiculous princely entrance. She misses the days where they would bicker and _flirt_ , holy Arceus, **_flirt_** \- without having to worry about saving the world, or him being Champion. Or the Devon heir. Or a possible criminal, or genocidal maniac.

It all seems so far, far away, now.

“We go talk with them, and if they don’t want to listen, we just steal that Infinite Energy thingy. Or destroy the rocket and the whole lab, erm, well, maybe just the parts that they require and not the entirety of it- and then set out to tame Rayquaza. What could go wrong, with a draconid at my side?”

* * *

Not even a day after, Zinnia learns that _everything_ could go _terribly, utterly_ wrong with a draconid at one’s side, but the worst could only happen if one were indeed said draconid in the flesh.

“DOWN!” she hears May yell as she promptly obeys, barely managing to avoid hitting a flock of Wingulls when she lowers her head just in time to prevent one of them from colliding with her face at an _extremely_ high speed. She doesn’t have enough time to thank the girl though, because she almost gets thrown off the serpent’s body, clinging desperately to its scales, her legs already submerged in the white clouds below.

Zinnia screams.

This is _not_ how she imagined taming a legendary dragon deity would have been.

And the worst part of it all?

When an hour later they are finally able to touch again the solid floor of the Sky Pillar, onto which May almost collapses, there’s a Pokèball clutched in the girl’s hand.

Inside it, Rayquaza.

May’s Rayquaza, not Zinnia’s.

She wonders what use this world has for her as the Lorekeeper, if she’s not even able to communicate with the guardian of Lore itself, if the sky dragon deemed her unworthy.

She should have been the one to receive the Legendary’s favor.

She should hate the girl for being the one who has in her place.

(And maybe she does hate her a little, but she shrugs the feeling off anyway. Draconids have so much more respect for prophecies as old as the land they’re currently walking on than those human non-believers, and Rayquaza has chosen for itself its master)

Besides, Zinnia has enjoyed the ride, too. Greatly, in fact. (Except for the part where she almost precipitated onto the ground from hundreds of meters above, becoming a living meteor in the process)

She feels horrible mentioning it while the brunette is still busy emptying her stomach on the pillar’s stone floor though, so she just stays silent beside her until May’s able to stand on her feet again and directs a sheepish smile at her.

“Up for some stealing now?”

Zinnia’s pointy canines show when she grins in response.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

Infiltrating the Mossdeep Space Center ends up being way easier than what they thought.

As expected, their visit at the offices of Devon Corporation in Rustboro proved fruitless on the topic of forging alliances, as Mr. Stone had not believed them nor a single one of their claims and had just kept laughing like everything coming out of their mouths was just a big, amusing joke before bidding them a good day and placing into May's hands some coupons for a set of free meals and visits to some popular Hoenn landmarks.

_“Just a small thanks for stopping by and making an old fossil like me laugh this much!”_

Including a free, VIP tour of the Space Center.

For some unknown reason the man also stubbornly kept calling her _March_ , a habit that the draconid at her side apparently found so incredibly hilarious she’s still on the verge of laughing even now, while busy traversing the halls of the Space Center under the pretense of a ‘leisure trip’.

“I don’t even know why you never bothered correcting him” Zinnia lets out between suffocated chuckles, rummaging through the leaflet holder at the entrance in search of a map to the Centre’s laboratories.

May snorts. “Do you seriously think I haven’t tried that already? Look, half of Hoenn who works for Joseph Stone thought my name was March at some point, before the whole titans’ ordeal” she explains, while drawing the attention of a nearby employer and showing him their VIP passes.

“Miss Mar- aehm, _May_ ,” begins the guy, slightly blushing at them. “What a pleasure seeing you here! Can I do something for you?”

“Yes, thank you” she replies, trying to ignore the amused look on Zinnia’s face once again at her poor, abused name. “Me and my cousin,” she points at the draconid at her side. “We’d like to enter.”

The employer fiddles with his glasses before giving her an apologetic look. “I-I’m incredibly sorry, miss May, but the Center is currently closed due to sightings of an unidentified green flying object in the sky just south of Sootopolis"

May clicks her tongue, feigning surprise. “Oh, that strange thing in the sky! We saw it on our way here, but then it disappeared. What do you think it could be?”

She ignores Zinnia almost rolling on the floor in tears and looks at the employer with her best innocent eyes, seasoned with a hint of perfectly faked fright and worry.

‘We still don't know, Miss", the employer shakes his head, looking a bit downcast. "We are very busy investigating it".

His last words echo in May's mind. _Very busy investigating it_.

Which means empty laboratories. Busy scientists.

_Just what they needed._

She can’t let the occasion slip by, not if what Zinnia told her is going to happen.

Not if they can make a difference, not if they can save a world.

Not if she can prevent a guy she still likes more than despise having thousands of souls on his conscience.

May hates what she’s about to do, but she has to do something quickly, or else their chance would pass by and never return.

“Actually…we were asked to come here by the Champion, Steven Stone. He even gave us these,” she chimes, showing again the tickets with the Devon company logo on them.

How she manages to say his name without choking baffles her.

Maybe, it’s the half-truth hidden in that sentence that is easing her conscience. After all, a Stone family member indeed gifted them those two pieces of paper.

“Said he’d needed as much help as possible here, in case that… _thing_ reveals itself to be another potential danger threatening our region. We went on ahead, and he told us he’ll reach us at the laboratories as soon as he can. As you might well know, my Latias is much faster than other flying Pokèmons,” she winks on the last sentence, and grabs the employer’s arm in what she hopes is a seductive manner.

May knows it’s a risky move, but she’s counting on the fact Steven will probably be somewhere untraceable -hopefully some Arceus-forsaken cave- with no signal on his Nav and no possible way for the Centre staff to contact and confirm anything with him than believing May on her word and letting her in in advance.

Thankfully, by the time they realize the Champion wouldn't actually be coming anytime soon, she’ll already be on her way to Meteor Falls with Zinnia and the Infinity Energy device in her hands.

May just hopes she won’t get doubted again, but this time her title of heroine and awkward attempts at flirting seem to do the trick, because in hearing her words, the employer’s face – still slightly heated with pink-immediately relaxes.

 _Mission accomplished,_ May internally exults. At her side, Zinnia fist-bumps her.

“Oh…oh. I see, i-if that’s the case, please come-“

The guy’s sentence gets cut off by the sound of the Centre’s doors slamming open. A tall figure in a business suit she has memorized far too well for her own sake is standing in the glass doorways, panting and looking at her, the girl at her side and taking in the great spectacle of her arm still intertwined with the employer’s one with wide eyes.

“ _May_? What are you even doing here?” his tone is a mixture of surprised and accusing.

 _Oh no_ , she thinks.

With the best shit-eating grin she can muster, May stares directly at him.

The last person she wanted to see. The last person she _needed_ to be here, at this very moment.

She swallows down all the bitterness and hurt that risk overflowing from her lips in his presence before opening her mouth to speak.

“Steven! Took you long enough, huh? You sure know how to keep a girl waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, for the usual TRIVIA CORNER!:
> 
> -Zinnia and her grandma are actually said to be living in Meteor Falls in the games, and Zinnia's grandma totally calls Steven silver-haired dreamboat when you talk to her. I almost choked when that happened in my game. That granny's surely got an excellent sight *wink wink* (Just google "silver-haired dreamboat" if you don't believe me, it's truly epic, I swear)
> 
> -Next, since Aster's physical appearance has never been discussed in any game I just made it up. At first, I wanted her to look exactly like May ( being the "May" of the other dimension which us players gave a different name to), however I ultimately decided against it as it would have made the "being friends with May" part kinda awkward + I wanted Aster to feel more mature and older than Zinnia ( and May definitely doesn't, I believe them to be about the same age).
> 
> -Steven's Champion speech is directly taken from the game. It's so long and in a way, it's a bit awkward, yet I find the fact he tries so hard to welcome us players to his challenge with such a thoughtful gesture very cute! 
> 
> Hope I'll be able to post the last chapter soon, in the meantime, hope you liked this one and thanks again for all the people leaving comments and kudos, you're my angels!


End file.
